


Loyalty and Kindness

by ventusleone



Series: Unrelated Marine Marco AUs [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen, Marine Marco, Marine!Marco, marine AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-13 07:14:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21490453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ventusleone/pseuds/ventusleone
Summary: Marco is part of the Marines sent to intercept the 2nd division of the Whitebeard pirates as they are dangerously close to making contact with Red-Hair Shanks. The mission is simply to turn them around. How hard could it be?Well, The marine ship is a training vessel, the sea is filled with small volcanic islands and reefs and Marco is operating on very little sleep.And lets not forget that the new commander of the 2nd division, "Fire fist" is infamous for torching marine ships that come to close.What could possibly go wrong?**VAUGE SPOILERS FOR THE RECENT WANO ARC MANGA CHAPTERS**
Series: Unrelated Marine Marco AUs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554949
Comments: 271
Kudos: 367
Collections: Top Tier Reads





	1. Hard knock life

Marco studied the map closely before he sighed heavily. Captain Shu had just gotten the call to action, ordering them to change course and interrupt their scheduled training trip in favour of intercepting a ship from the second division of the whitebeard pirates. The 2nd Division-commander, Fire Fist or something like that, had been skirting the border between their own territory and the territory of “Red-Hair” Shanks, and the world government really didn’t want them to make contact.

So now it was up to Marco to plot out the best course to intercept the enemy ship, while avoiding Red-Hair’s territory themselves, and with a ship full of new-world Navigator trainees. Spreading out another map, Marco studied the three arrows of his log pose. He was able to use his Zoan senses to pick up on some magnetic frequencies, but the faint and chaotic fields of the new world were unpredictable. He found it easier to just use a Log pose to double check his senses.

Avoiding Red-Hair’s territory would be difficult, but Marco took no chances with that man. After their first couple of encounters, Marco had decided to do everything in his power to make sure they never ran into each other again. The pirate’s insistence on inviting him to “join his crew” had led to an internal investigation as someone higher up worried that Marco might jump ship and abandon his fellow marines.

As the he slaved over the maps a tentative knock kame on the door to his small office. He momentarily considered just ignoring it and keep working, but he decided against it and gave an affirmative grunt around the ink pen he held with his teeth as his hands traced lines on the map.

“Lieutenant Marco, Captain Shu is wondering if you have a course plotted yet. He is quite eager to get going.”

The timid question came from a particularly skilled trainee-navigator. Taking the pen from his mouth, Marco replied dryly. 

“That depends on what the good Captain wants. If he wants us to go straight through a storm, potentially risking the crew, ship and mission then I had the route ready three hours ago.” Marco gestured towards a map in the corner with a very simple straight line drawn on it.

“However, If our dear Captain wants to arrive at the border between two Yonko territories without being killed by either pirate-crew, the weather or a pack of seakings, while at the same time giving us cover in the event of an encounter with the Whitebeard pirates, then he is going to have to wait.”

Marco never took his eyes off the map as he spoke, trailing a specific current between the many small uninhabited islands along the edge of Red-Hair’s territory. Most of the islands were volcanoes that were just barely poking up above the sea, but that also left sharp rocks right beneath the surface of the sea. They would have to pick their route carefully if they wanted to keep their ship whole.

“R-right Lieutenant. I-ill let the captain know.”

Captain Shu had not been happy when Marco finally emerged from his office four hours after he was ordered to plot a course, but he didn’t waste any time setting sail. The order to intercept the 2nd division had come in just as Marcos night-watch ended, and as the sun now rose over the New World there was nothing Marco wanted more than to hide away and steal a nap.

Sadly, the course Marco had plotted between the islands and reefs was far to complicated for the relatively new navigators and it required Marco to keep constant vigil over the magnetic fields and the waters around them. That left him stuck on deck, ordering trainees around as they maneuvered the ship around the dangerous waters.

Thick fog made it difficult to navigate the volcanic reefs and islands, but with a crew of mostly navigators Marco was confident that they could handle the sea. It was probably the exhaustion and his focus on the log pose that lead to Marco not sensing the approach of the pirates, but as the winds picked up and the fog dispersed the ship was upon them. 

The 2nd division of the whitebeard pirates were notoriously easy to anger and quick on the trigger. Marco didn’t know if they did something to piss them off or if their commander was just mad, but a gigantic ball of fire bust through the remaining fog and missed the ship by mere meters. 

That was another thing about the 2nd division. They had always been well known for their destructive nature, but after the rookie "Fire Fist" was put in charge, no ship survived a clash with them without its sails burned to a crisp. Marine patrols tailing whitebeard ships often called back requesting aid as they were left drifting in the grand line with only oars to get home. 

Captain Shu barked orders and insults at the navigators, telling them to get to their battlestations and prepare to board the enemy. Marco glared at him as he was ordered to the front line. The navigators knew how to fight. They were being trained to deal with the New World and they had all sailed through paradise. But Whitebeard's men were also skilled fighters. 

Rushing forwards, Marco leapt across to the other ship, closely followed by his strongest crew mates as they formed the vanguard. Captain Shu was still barking orders behind them as Marco threw the first kick towards an approaching pirate. He felt a satisfying crack beneath his foot as the pirate fell back and another took its place. 

As Marco and the others kept pushing the pirates back, the sound of a plank hitting the wood behind them told Marco that the rest of the crew were ready to charge. The vanguard gave a final push as their allies approached from behind, and Marco spotted a pirate raising his blade towards the man next to him. Throwing himself between them, Marco blocked the hit with his arm before quickly taking out the swordsman as the deep gash mended itself with blue flames. 

Panicked questions sounded from the pirates around them, but they were drowned out by the battlecry of the charging marines. As swords and bullets began flying around him, Marco launched himself up and perched himself on the pirate's mast as he turned back into a human. He couldn't see the notorious Fire Fist anywhere, but from the brief display earlier Marco knew he had to be in the fight somewhere. 

Glancing around, Marco's eyes fell on a shirtless pirate with an orange cowboy hat. The seemingly unarmed boy took out marines like they were flies, knocking them out with his bare hands. Marco watched as one of the marines around him managed to hit him with a sword only for the man to burst into flames that danced around the sword like it never happened. A logia then, Marco thought to himself as a bullet flew through his shoulder. 

Turning to look for the shooter behind him, Marco's eyes paused on the sea. With the fog gone, he saw the sharp edges of volcanic rock beneath the surface. He also saw the ocean, twisting in a familiar way and felt dread fill his stomach. Water was twisting and boiling beneath the surface in a way that never brought good news.

Leaping from his perch, Marco partially transformed his arms and legs as flew at Fire Fist just as the grinning boy dodged a sword from a marine. Coating his talon in haki, Marco sent the kid flying before he turned back towards the marines. 

"Fall back! Unfurl the sails and get out of here."

The urgency in his voice along with the rare display of his powers seemed enough to convince them as the marines repeated the orders as they fell back, making sure the knocked out marines were retrieved. Marco intended to follow close behind them, covering their retreat, but as he began to run a burning fist slammed into his back and sent him crashing into the base of the mast. 

Stunned, Marco got to his feet and turned towards the kid. The grin was gone and a set of three bleeding gashes decorated his chest as he glared at Marco. Brief shouts of concern from his crew fell on deaf ears as the pirate's arm turned into fire and he launched himself at Marco. 

Focusing on his haki, Marco lost track of the countless pirates and marines around them. Using his hand, Marco grabbed at the fire and found an arm. As he yanked the arm closer his eyes met the surprised eyes of the boy just as he slammed his knee into the kid's stomach. As the boy went limp, Marco spun around and threw him at some of the surrounding pirates. 

Turning to run Marco saw the last of the marines crossing the plank while fighting the pirates that followed. The grating voice of Captain Shu could be heard, even over the sounds of battle as he berated the marines for running away. 

Briefly Marco imagined tossing the man in the ocean and letting the man drown, but that brief distraction would prove to be his downfall. As he ran, he failed to sense the pirate to his left. Marco felt someone grab his wrist and pull and on instinct, Marco yanked his arm against the pirate's grip before throwing a kick and breaking the man's nose beneath his heel. 

The seconds he wasted fighting the pirate was just enough for another larger pirate to wrap his hands around Marco’s chest, pinning his arms to his sides. Just as he was about to transform and break free, Marco felt his powers drain as seastone clasped around his right hand. Struggling against the pirate's hold as his other hand was locked in the cuffs, Marco threw his all force into a headbutt, crushing the nose of the man holding him with the back of his skull. 

As the pirate's hands flew to his bleeding nose, Marco landed on unsteady feet and kept running. As he dodged between pirates Marco saw the marines unfurling the sails. The plank between the ships were gone, and while that was normally not a problem as he could usually fly, Marco knew he needed to move quickly if he wanted to make it back. 

Thanking God that his hands were chained in front of him and not behind his back, Marco leaped onto the railing and threw himself towards his ship. It was only half way through the jump that he realised he would not be able to make it with his reduced strength. Raising his chained hands, Marco felt his fingertips brush against the raining on the marine ship as he began to plummet. 

A hand wrapped around Marcos wrist and he crashed against the side of the ship. Another set of hands joined the first and began pulling him up as Marco caught his breath. As his chest were pulled over the railing Marco fell in an undignified heap on the deck as concerned questions echoed around him. Pushing himself to his feet, Marco was grateful for the steadying hand on his shoulder as a furious Captain Shu stormed towards him. 

"Just who in the Hells do you think you are, giving my men orders!? Why I ought to-" as the Captain spoke he grabbed the collar of Marco’s shirt and yanked him closer in a way probably intended to intimidate him, but Marco had more pressing concerns. 

"We are sitting on top of a knock up stream that's about to blow any second!" 

A second of stunned silence followed Marco’s exclamation as the marines realised the implications of the statement. As Captain Shu muttered a quiet shit, the entire crew sprung into action, raising the sails and getting the oars. Captain Shu kept holding Marco for a few more seconds before he leaned in uncomfortably close.

“If you ever give my men an order without my approval again, you will find yourself facing something far worse than some knock up stream, got it Bird?” Shu’s voice was raspy and smelled like rust. Marco defiantly met his eyes, and a cruel smirk crossed the captain lips before his fist connected with Marco’s face, knocking him to the floor.

“I've wanted to do that for a long time.” 

“I was feeling kinda bad taking out fleeing opponents, but you just proved my bad conscience wrong.”

A blazing inferno crashed down on the railing behind Marco only to take a vaguely humanoid form as it spoke. The few marines that were close by reached for their weapons, but as navigators Marco knew they wouldn’t have the Haki required to hurt a logia. As the boy raised a fist Marco knew he had to act. The moniker “Fire Fist” was not just given to him for fun as he was known to sink ships with a single punch, sear through them and let the wreckage burn.

The next moment seemed to pass by in slow motion. As Fire Fist punched towards the ship, Marco shot up from the deck and used his left leg to kick the fist up towards the sky and knocking the pirate off balance. The boy instinctively grabbed on to his leg to catch himself with his burning hand, only for the ship to suddenly list to the side as an enormous geyser burst from the sea where the ship had been mere moments before. The sudden jerk knocked them both over, and the already unbalanced pirate fell backwards, pulling them over the edge and down into the sea.

The last thing Marco was aware of was the thought that the sea was surprisingly cold this close to a volcano, before he felt himself be pulled up the powerful knock up stream.

The first thing Marco became aware of was the ocean currently making its way out if his lungs. He frantically tried to remember how to breath, but strong hands were rolling him over so that he was lying on his side and smacking his back. Coughing up ungodly amounts of water, Marco felt tears stream from his eyes as he gasped down shaky breaths of air between coughs.

By the time Marco registered the world around him, the hand had stopped smacking him and were rubbing his shoulders soothingly. At some point Marco had gotten on his knees and elbows in the wet sand. Wait, sand? Why was he in the sand? And why was his hands chained? None of this made any sense, he was supposed to be teaching the new navigators how to survive the New World. 

Frowning as he tried to remember how he ended up in the sand with his hands chained with seastone Marco turned his head to the side, trying to figure out who was helping him. The boy looked miserable with drenched curly black hair framing a familiar freckled face. The worried frown on his face melted into a relieved smile as the kid spoke yet Marco couldn’t quite place who he was. Oh, wait, now he was frowning again. Did he say something? Marco probably should have been listening. 

“-you alright?” Oh yeah he was definitely asking Marco something. Altight. Was he alright. That was the question. Without really thinking about it, Marco nodded. He was probably fine. He usually was. But that still didn’t really answer the question of where he was or why he was there. 

The kid smiled widely as he got up and took a couple steps back to pick something up. It was raining. Harco tried to remember if they had been on the ship when the storm began. No. There had been fog, and the wind had been picking up, but there was no storm. The kid was picking up a hat. A bright, orange cowboy hat. It was a miracle that it had managed to stay on during the trip through the knock up stream. Marco’s own marine issued cap was long gone.

Wait.

The knock up stream?

In a flash it all came rushing back to him. 

The pirates. The knock up stream. The cuffs.

And when he looked back at the kid, his hand was on fire. Drying his hat in the pouring rain.

Shit.

In retrospect, Marco probably could have handled the realisation a lot better than he did. But in his defence, he had just been washed up on a deserted island together with an enemy that had been trying to kill him just moments ago. So immediately jumping to his feet and getting into a battle stance sounded like a good idea. But Marco’s spotty memory had left out one key detail from his memory. 

The moment his left leg felt the slightest pressure it erupted in excruciating pain. Briefly Marco wondered how he had not felt the pain as he was lying down, but he was ripped from his thoughts as a hand wrapped itself around his shoulders and kept him from falling over. Marco heard a muttered shit from Fire Fist as he tried to find a comfortable way to keep weight of Marco’s left leg while avoiding the handcuffs.

“Wow, ok slow down guy. Shit.” The pirate went on to mutter about finding cover and getting supplies, but Marco couldn’t just hold still and let the pirate take charge. With a sudden jerk, Marco pulled himself away from the pirate and stumbled a few painful steps away from him, carefully keeping his eyes trained at the 2nd division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates.

It was difficult to view the freckled, drenched kid with worry written across his face and think of him as an enemy. Marco had to remind himself just what the boy was capable off. Referring to him as kid or boy didn’t help his case either. As Fire Fist took an apprehensive step towards Marco, the marine carefully took in their physical conditions. 

Fire Fist had a couple scratches and bruises, the biggest being the three gashes Marco had given him. Apart from that he seemed to be in a decent condition. Marco however was a mess. His left leg was badly burnt from Fire Fist grabbing it, leaving long blisters and pink skin from his knee to his ankle. His head was a little cloudy, but it was clearing up by the minute. His nose was probably a little blue as well from the punch Captain Shu had given him.

The only injury he couldn’t quite place was the pain in his chest. It felt like cracked ribs, but nothing Marco had done after the shackles would leave him with cracked ribs. Not unless they were the result of whatever the knock up stream did to leave him stranded here. Carefully putting weight on his left lec, Marco took another step back, away from the slowly approaching pirate.

“Calm down. I didn’t help you for you to panic and kill yourself.” Marco could hear the frantic concern behind the words as Fire Fist spoke. If what he was saying was true then it would explain Marco’s broken ribs. Resuscitating someone after drowning was not a gentle process, and Marco was lucky if his ribs were only cracked and not snapped after that. 

Meeting the pirate’s eyes, Marco carefully lowered his guard. If Fire Fist wanted him dead he could simply have done nothing. There was not really any reason why he would save Marco only to kill him moments later. The boy seemed to sense Marco’s change of heart as he took five quick steps and wrapped his right hand around Marco to keep the weight of his leg. If he wanted to kill Marco, there really was not much Marco could do about it anyways. 

“Be honest this time. Are you ok?” Marco deliberated for a moment before he replied. Ok was a relative term, and while he was in a pretty shitty situation and in a less than good shape, he could handle this. When he tried to reply, the raspy scratch that came out sounded painful even to his own ears.

“Y-yeah I’ll be fine. Leg hurts like a bitch, but I’ll live.”

“That’s good. We need to find a shelter. The storm seems to be getting worse. But don’t worry! I’m good at this kind of stuff.” The bright smile that beamed as Fire Fist spoke was highly contageous, and as the two slowly limped towards the threeline Marco realized in disbelief that he was also smiling as the young pirate launched into a story about being lost in a jungle as a kid.

The jungle was dense and would have been difficult to traverse even with two good legs, but the pirate was surprisingly good at traversing the undergrowth. Picking his way from one animal track to another, Fire Fist guided them deeper into the jungle as he spoke about the time he and his brothers fell into a ravine armed with nothing but two pipes and their fists. Marco found that it was a nice distraction from the pain in his leg. While his life was not in any immediate danger, Marco’s leg still left him in agony at every step as he leaned heavily on the shorter pirate. 

After what felt like an eternity of trudging through the howling winds and pouring rain Marco was having a hard time focusing on anything apart from putting one foot in front of the other. He was leaning heavily on Fire Fist by the time they reached a clearing by a cliffside. The pirate muttered a soft curse as the steep cliff blocked the path forwards. As the boy looked around the clearing in hopes of finding another patch, Marco studied the oddly familiar cliffside. 

“Hey kid, I think there is a cave behind those vines over there.”

As Marco nodded towards the cliffside, Fire Fist muttered something about not being a kid as they crossed the clearing. There were the obvious remnants of a firepit with large logs around it, probably benches. Upon closer inspection Marco also saw empty barrels and shattered bottles littered about the clearing, confirming that Marco had been right to recognise the place.

When Fire Fist reached the cliff he let Marco go and began to push through the wall of vines, using his flames to burn through the thickest parts. He quickly disappeared into the cave Marco knew would be there. Leaning against the side of the cliff, Marco followed the pirate into the cave.

“How the hell did you know this was here?” The cavern was draped in long, flickering shadows as the pirate’s burning arm illuminated the entrance. Along the cave walls were wooden crates in various states of decay, some looking new while others looked as if they had been there for ages.

“I recognised the clearing outside as the one where I crashed Red-Hair’s party a few years ago.” And had not that been an entertaining afternoon. Marco’s current captain had been a self important idiot who almost got himself and the rest of the crew killed because of his ego. And when Marco went against orders to step in and save the idiot he had been punished with nightwatch for 3 weeks.

“Hold on. You fought against Red-Hair Shanks? The Yonko?” Marco would normally have been offended by the disbelief in the pirate’s voice, but he was way too exhausted to care. Leaning his back against the cave wall, Marco slid down in a sitting position with his injured leg stretched out in front of him and his chained arms in his lap.

“Well, I didn’t really fight him that day. I was more of a distraction. But I have fought him a couple times. I tend to get stationed on the border of his territories to make sure he stays out of marine business.” Marco closed his eyes and let his head fall against the cold wall behind him as the sounds of the kid rummaging through crates filled the cave.

“Kid, would you do me a favour and hand me the strongest alcohol you find?”

“If you stop calling me Kid i might consider it.” Fire Fist’s voice sounded frustrated as the rummaging continued. Marco would have loved to tease him for a while more, but he was too exhausted.

“Sorry. What’s your name then Fire Fist?” The rummaging sounds stoppen, yet no reply followed. Opening his eyes, Marco saw the incredulous look in the Pirate’s eyes before he turned and gestured to the tattoo on his left arm. For a moment Marco was confused, but as he realised what the tatoo said he let out a soft laugh.

“Right, sorry about that Ace. I’m Marco. I’m sorry about hitting you earlier, but you know how it is. No hard feelings?” Ace’s face split into another grin as Marco spoke. Pulling a large bottle out of one of the crates next to him, Ace walked closer and sat down in front of Marco.

“I’ll forgive you if you tell me how you managed to scratch me when I was fire.” Ace’s smile told Marco that there were no hard feelings as he took a swig from the bottle, only to sputter and cough as it hit his taste buds

“What the hell is this.” he sputtered and looked at the bottle with disgust

“Considering it is part of Red-Hair’s hidden stash, it’s probably some obscure sake from an island in West Blue that’s strong enough to strip the paint of off a ship.” Marco said with a smile.

“It might taste like shit, but it can still disinfect wounds. Do me a favour and pour it on the burns would you?” Ace, bless him, barely hesitated before he emptied the contents of the bottle on Marco’s burned leg. Marco was proud that he managed to restrict himself to a single pained groan as the alcohol stung.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to burn you that last time.” Slightly taken aback by the guilt and sincerity in Ace’s voice, Marco shot the younger man a smile. 

“I said no hard feelings. And I did scratch you fist, so we are even.” 

“Oh yeah you didn’t answer. How did you scratch me while I was fire?” The confusion was audible in the pirate’s voice, and Marco briefly studied his face before answering.

“Are you telling me that the 2nd division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, a Logia no less, doesn’t know about haki?” Marco broke into a grin at the slight blush that covered Ace’s cheeks.

“No need to be an ass about it!” Chuckling slightly at the pirate’s outrage, Marco raised his chained arms in a sign of defeat.

“How about we make a deal? If you get a fire going and keep the cavern warm through the night, I’ll show it to you in the morning.” And judging from Ace’s surprisingly eager smile as he accepted the deal, Marco decided he would need all the rest he could get.

Waking up was a chore as Marco felt his body ache. After eating his fruit, Marco had taken to sleeping in whatever strange positions the cramped space of a Marine ship offered as it didn’t really make him feel any worse. But after a night on the cold rocky ground of a cave, chained with seastone and with a burned leg and bruised ribs Marco felt like shit.

Fire Fist was nowhere to be seen, but Marco didn’t need Haki to sense where the kid had run off to. The air that filled the cave was filled with the smell of roasting meat, and Marco recognised the sounds of a bonfire outside the cave. 

It took an embarrassingly long time to get to his feet as Marco tried to put as little weight on his left leg as possible. Once he was standing, he carefully made his way out of the cave and into the blinding sunlight. 

Cold winds whipped around Marco as he exited the cave, but it had stopped raining. Ace was sitting on one of the logs around the firepit, using a long stick to poke at the huge boar over the bonfire. Looking towards the sun at its highest point in the clear sky, Marco realised with a shock that had slept until somewhere around midday.

“You should have woken me. I could have helped you catch dinner.” Marco said as he limped his way over to the log and sat down besides Ace. As the young man turned to face him Marco was once again surprised at how contagious his smile was as he felt a tugging at the corners of his lips.

“You seemed like you needed the sleep Old man.” As he spoke he kept poking at the boar. “I didn’t want you to exhaust yourself before our training even begann.” Marco found himself mirroring the pirate’s playful smirk as Ace turned to look at him. 

“Is that so kid? Then how about we get started? Wouldn’t want to keep you up past your bedtime after all.” Marco answered with a shit eating grin.

Teaching Ace about Haki was simple enough. Marco told him the same things he told new marines about its uses and applications and the kid seemed to understand the basic concepts quickly enough. Having sailed the grand line, the pirate must have seen way more crazy shit than a sixth sense. He seemed particularly interested as Marco described conqueror's Haki, and he was disappointed when Marco told him that he could not do it himself.

But learning about something was very different than learning how to do something, and as a blindfolded Ace failed to block a single one of the many pebbles Marco tossed towards him his frustration grew. By the time the boar was done roasting Ace’s jovial smile was replaced with a petty frown that made him look more like a kid than ever before. 

“You are already far ahead of most of the new marines I have to teach. Stop pouting and eat your boar.” Marco did his best to repress his laugh as the young pirate tore into his meal with unparalleled vigour. 

A comfortable silence fell over the pair as they sat around the embers and ate. Marco’s leg still hurt, and despite sitting all day while tossing pebbles the leg felt worse than it had done in the morning. Inspecting the handcuffs, Marco frowned at the lock he had been unable to pick all morning. Something was jammed inside it, most likely debris from the knock up stream, and without a proper set of tools there was no way he could get it open.

“Hey Marco? Why did you guys attack us anyways?” Lowering the handcuffs Marco turned to look at the pirate. He was drinking more of the sake from the cave as he relaxed against the log.

“You threw a Fireball the size of a whale at our ship. Did you think we wouldn’t fight back?” Marco’s voice was the same unimpressed monotone he used to deliver reports to Captain Shu. 

“What?! No! I didn’t see you in the fog! It was an accident!” Marco sent the kid an unamused look as he cut him off.

“Why did you throw the fireball then?” At that Ace’s ears turned bright read and he avoided eye contact as he muttered.

“I was aiming for this really tasty looking seaking…” Marco’s stunned silence stretched on for almost a minute as Ace studies his fingers in an attempt to avoid Marco’s eyes. Then Marco burst out laughing, nearly toppling off the log as he doubled over. If possible, Ace turned even more red as he shouted at Marco who just kept laughing uncontrollably.

“S-sorry Ace. I’m not laughing at you I swear.” Marco felt the rare sensation of cramps as he kept laughing. Being chained with seastone was rare enough, but laughing until it hurt at the same time hadn’t happened in years. His bruised ribs protested loudly as he desperately tried to stop his laughter. Once he could draw a breath without choking on a giggle, Marco sat up straight and brushed the tears from where they had gathered in his eyes.

“Sorry sorry, It’s just the fact that we were ordered to stop you Whitebeard Pirates from making contact with Red-Hair because the Fleet-commander was convinced you were hatching some evil scheme to overthrow the government. But I am going to have to tell him you were just out for lunch.” As he said it out loud, Marco fought back his laughter as Ace seemed to process the information.

“So you were just gonna attack us because your captain told you to? That asshole who hit you?” Ace’s voice held an emotion Marco couldn't quite place as the younger pirate addressed Marco.

“That’s how orders work.” Marco said with a nonchalant shrug as he choked down the last of his chuckles. 

“If Pops tells me to do something that I think is stupid I tell him. Normally he can give me a good reason, but if he doesn’t have one and I think it’s bad for my division I can refuse to do it.” Ace almost sounded like a different person when he was this serious Marco thought. There was unmistakable respect and awe in his tone as he talked about his captain, despite the silly nickname the pirates had given him. Marco leveled the pirate with an unimpressed look as he sat up a little straighter.

“Have you ever disobeyed an order then Fire Fist?” Ace’s eyes were hard, unyielding as he answered

“No. I trust Pops’ judgement. But I did try to kill him for a while.” At the last part of the statement, Ace’s expression turned sheepish and he broke the eye contact he had with Marco.

“What?” Marco could hardly believe what he was hearing.

“Yeah when they picked me up I tried to kill him to prove myself or some shit. It was pretty dumb.” Ace said like it was no big deal.

“You tried to fight a Yonko.” Marco said in utter disbelief. The kid could not be a day older than 20, yet he claimed to have clashed with Edward newgate himself. Marco had only faced the man once, and he had been chopped in half. “How are you still alive?”

“He didn’t even try to get serious against me. He just wanted me to join him.” Ace grinned sheepishly, and that statement made Marco groan. 

“God are all pirates like that?”

“What do you mean?” Marco sighed heavily and let a frustrated smile tug at his lips.

“Red-hair keeps inviting me to join his crew whenever we meet. I keep telling him to fuck off but he never stops.” Marco couldn’t fault Ace for laughing at his predicament as the younger man burst out laughing. To be honest, Marco had also found it entertaining the first couple of times. But then they had met for a third time and Shanks had kept insisting that Marco would be a good pirate to the point where Marco’s captain had launched an internal investigation to make sure Marco’s loyalties were with the marines.

“Really? My brother would be super jealous. Ever since Shanks gave him a strawhat he has been the biggest fanboy ever.” Ace’s previous seriousness were totally gone and replaced by a big goofy grin by the time he mentioned his brother.

“Shanks gave him his strawhat?” Now that Marco thought about it, hadn’t Shanks had a strawhat in all his early wanted posters? 

“Only temporarily, Luffy got to borrow redhair’s hat if he promised to give it back once he became The Pirate King.” Ace’s proud smile reminded Marco of someone. And the name Luffy seemed oddly familiar somehow. It wasn’t until he thought about the strawhat that it all clicked for Marco. 

Captain Shu and Marco had recently been assigned to help train the new navigators. During their scheduled stop in Marineford to pick up the new navigators a few weeks back, Marco had happened across one of the many new wanted posters where the price was yet to be decided. The young boy and his huge grin had caught Marco’s attention, and seeing Ace’s grin conjured the wanted poster in his mind.

“Your brother is strawhat Luffy.” For a brief second, confusion washed over the pirate’s face before surprise and excitement took its place. In a split second Ace was on his feet mere inches from Marco’s face, grabbing his shoulders.

“YOU KNOW HIM?” The three words were filled to the brim with worry, excitement, pride and countless other emotions Marco couldn’t place as Ace shook his shoulders and jolsted his painful ribs. Lifting his chained hands to grab on to Ace’s wrist, Marco yanked himself free from the pirate.

“Hey calm down. Apparently he beat up the Arlong pirates in East-blue. He has a bounty incoming, but it’s not public yet as the government want a report from Captain Nezumi first to determine the prize.” As Marco spoke he could see Ace’s eyes fill with more and more pride. Marco would never understand why pirates took such pride in their lawlessness, but it was hard not to smile as Fire Fist turned around and shouted in excitement.

“THAT MEANS HE SET OUT! I wonder what his crew is like! I have to go visit him!” Marco sighed as the pirate started pacing excitedly around the bonfire.

“Don’t forget we have to get of this island first.” Marco hadn’t put any real thought towards that particular goal yet. Marine patrols usually passed by at least once a month, so as long as they arrived before Red-Hair threw another party Marco would be fine.

“Oh don’t worry. My family is already searching for me.” Ace smiled towards Marco before he began pacing again. “I wonder if he found a chef that can put up with him yet. Knowing him he will get lost searching for a musician rather than a Navigator.” 

Frowning as the pirate paced, Marco considered his options. If Ace was correct then his crew would be searching for him to retrieve him. While Marco was willing to trust the pirate at the moment, he really would prefer it if they were picked up by a marine patrol. But if the pirates had Ace’s Vivre card then they would be headed straight for them.

With a sigh, Marco carefully got to his feet. As he stood, another pulse of pain and dizziness tore through him and he reached out to steady himself against the large log next to him. He barely had the time to collect himself before Ace was by his side, supporting him again. Before the pirate had the time to ask him if he was ok, Marco straightened his back and spoke.

“If we want to get found then we better head back down to the beach. A bonfire on the shore is the best way to a another ship.” Marco neglected to mention that he hoped said ship was a marine ship, deciding that having Ace as an ally when making a bonfire would be in his best interest.

They slowly but steadily made their way back down towards the shore they had washed up on. The light from the late afternoon sun and the lack of pouring rain made the trip a lot easier than it had been the previous time, and after about an hour Ace was already in the process of dragging logs out on the sandy beach.

Marco was perched on a rock under one of the many palm trees that lined the beach. There were no ships on the horizon, and despite what Marco kept telling himself, his leg was hurting a lot more than it had done the day before. He could also feel the telltale rise in temperature that followed an infection. If they ended up stuck on this island for a month Marco would either have to treat the burn properly, or he most likely would not survive.

“Marco!” Snapping to attention as the pirate shouted his name, Marco almost lost his balance as he spun his head towards the boy as the fever was making him dizzy.

“You ok? I have been calling you for like a minute.” While his body language was nonchalante, Ace’s voice failed to hide the worry as his eyes fell on Marco’s leg. Marco briefly considered if he should lie and tell the kid he was fine, but something in his eyes told him that the boy had seen bad burns before.

“Could you do me a favour and light the bonfire before you run back to the cave and get another bottle of alcohol? I want to keep it clean to fight off any infections.” If there was one thing Marco hated, it had to be to ask for help because he was injured. The constant worry and concern from others made him feel trapped and even worse than he did before asking for help. In that regard, eating the Phoenix fruit had been a blessing. 

But to Marco’s surprise Ace didn’t make a big fuss about making sure Marco was safe or ok. With a quick nod Ace turned and tossed a fireball at the logs piled up on the beach before he turned and smiled

"Keep an eye on the sea and shout if you see anyone. I’ll hunt some dinner while i’m back there.” And with that he was gone, disappearing back into the jungle and leaving Marco to watch the sea. 

Carefully, Marco limped closer to the bonfire to combat the chilling winds of the island. With another hour until the sun would set Marco made himself comfortable in the sand as his eyes scanned the horizon in the hopes that a Marine ship would pass by and spot them. 

Marco jolted awake to the rythmic sound of oars and a pair of bickering voices growing louder. The sun had nearly set, bathing the skies in a bright orange glow while the shadows grew dark. 

Cursing himself for falling asleep, Marco shot to his feet, only to remember his injuries a second too late. A wave of dizziness flooded his mind as his entire leg screamed in agony, and the marine crashed back down on his knees in the sand with a muffled cry of pain. 

It took him a concerning amount of time for his mind to comprehend what was happening. His fever was a lot worse now than it had been, but on the bright side, the pulsing pain in his leg somehow seemed further away than it did earlier. Marco no longer heard the rhythmic rowing, but the bickering continued as a pair of hushed voices. 

"This is such a bad idea. What if it's Shanks?" From his position in the sand next to the bonfire Marco could not see the newcomers, but the voice sounded like a man. That hopefully meant that they could not see him either as he was on the opposite side of the fire.

"Then we tell him that we are looking for Ace. He might be Pop's rival, but he is not that unreasonable." Cursing his luck Marco realised that the two men were Whitebeard pirates. So much for getting picked up by a marine patrol. While ace had proved to be pleasant enough, Marco was not about to trust two random pirates. Especially not while he was injured, chained and in the remnants of a marine uniform. 

Listening for their approaching voices, Marco slowly crawled around the bonfire, keeping it between himself and the pair. It was difficult to pick up their steps in the sand, but the first voice kept talking as he moved up towards the edge of the jungle. Keeping his eyes tracked towards the voice, Marco slowly edged backwards around the fire until the cold barrel of a gun pressed into his neck.

“Move and I shoot.” The second voice said coldly behind him, as Marco froze. So much for avoiding the pirates.

“I got him Thatch. You can stop talking to yourself now.” Marco remained perfectly still in the sand as the other pirate came around the bonfire and stopped in from of him. The man had a huge brown pompadour and a black goatee that framed his angular face. It was a face Marco recognised from one of the many wanted posters he had studied, but he couldn’t quite place it. 

“Shit Izo look at him, I don’t think he is much of a threat.” Marco would have been offended had he not been busy trying to connect the name Izo to any of the posters he knew. He was really starting to regret not paying better attention to the Whitebeard crew when his mind came up empty. The gun pointing at his neck pushed against him slightly.

“Get up.” Marco saw a flicker of concern cross Thatch’s face as the one behind him, Izo, ordered him to stand up. Marco slowly and carefully pushed himself up on his aching leg. Dizziness washed over him again as Marco straightened his back, forcing him to use his burned leg to keep standing. Gritting his teeth Marco couldn’t quite choke down the pained whimper as his leg burned.

“That looks painful. Who burnt you?” As Izo spoke the barrel of the gun was pressed back at Marco’s neck. The pirate in front, Thatch, seemed about to protest but Marco was not about to risk his life because two pirates were arguing with each other.

“Fire Fist Ace.” Thatch’s eyes focused on something behind Marco’s shoulder, probably meeting his partners eyes. They seemed to have an entire conversation with their eyes before the voice behind him growled.

“And where is he now?” The cold gun remained pressed against his neck in a silent threat.

“Hunting in the jungle.” Marco swallowed thickly as another wave of dizziness washed over him. Thatch looked like he was about to say something, but a loud crash crash from the jungle caused all three heads to snap to attention just in time to see a boar the size of a whale charge after a familiar burning pirate.

In a split second Marco felt himself be pulled out of the rampaging Boar’s path and slung over someone's shoulder. He was about to yell at whoever was manhandling him, but his bruised ribs complained loudly enough for Marco to shut his mouth. The sound of a gun firing was quickly followed by the sound of a huge creature collapsing in the sand.

“Holy shit you almost hit me Izo!” The sound of Ace was good news at least. Perhaps he could convince his friends to let Marco go without shooting him.

“And you fell off your ship you idiot! We have been searching everywhere for you!” The angry voice of Izo echoed louder than the bullets from his gun had. Marco felt himself be shifted off Thatch’s shoulder and lowered to sit in the sand as Izo began verbally berating Ace. 

“Are you ok? You look pretty pale…” Thatch knelt down next to Marco and gingerly reached out to feel his temperature. Raising his shackled arms to swat away the offending hand, Marco glared at the pirate. Sighting Thatch turned towards the loud pair.

“Oi, Ace! Are you going to introduce your new friend.” Closing his eyes and sighing heavily Marco braced for the incoming storm.

“Shit Marco! Are you ok? I went to get the alcohol but the boar showed up and tried to kill me but I didn’t want to start a forest fire and I thought we could roast it on the fire and-” Marco stopped listening as Ace launched into a lengthy explanation.

“Did you bring the alcohol?” As Marco cut of Ace the young pirate paused and looked away sheepishly before he pulled out half of a shattered bottle. 

“The boar wasn’t very happy…” Sighing again Marco closed his eyes in exasperation as Thatch cleared his throat.

"How about we get you two back to the ship where the doctor can disinfect the leg with something stronger than a drink?" There were nothing Marco wanted less than to step foot on a pirate ship in his condition, but he was starting to suspect he would not get a choice. And despite his reservations when it came to pirates, Marco really needed to either get rid of the seastone or get medical attention. 

A strong arm wrapped itself around Marco’s back as another snaked its way beneath his legs before he was hoisted up held in the arms of Thatch. Ace burst out laughing at Marco’s undignified squeak as he protested at the thought of being carried like a child. Trying in vain to free himself from the pirate, Marco was about to hit him with the shackles only to be interrupted by the one with the gun.

“Knock it off. We are getting you to a doctor no matter how much you fight, so you are just delaying the inevitable.” Now that Marco got a good look at the man they called Izo he was finally able to connect him with one of the many wanted posters. Izo, commander of the 16th division had a unique look. He wore his hair and applied makeup like a female dancer from Wano, despite being a man, and Marco thought his eyes looked sharper than most the blades the marines waved around.

Speaking of blades, Thatch, the one currently carrying Marco towards the small rowboat, carried two swords. While Marco couldn’t place what poster he knew Thatch from, he knew the man was wanted. And you didn’t get a bounty unless you knew how to swing your swords. Taking a gamble, Marco stopped struggling.

“Instead of taking me to your doctor and wasting both their time and supplies, you could chop off my hands and get the chains off me.” Three pairs of incredulous eyes turned to look at him in various states of disbelief. Before any of them could get a word out, Marco continued.

“They grow back. The seastone is preventing me from healing, but as soon as it’s gone I will be fine and I’ll get out of your way.” A stunned silence echoed for but a moment until Izo quietly swore.

“Holy shit. You are the marine that beat up Jozu.” Ace snapped around to look at the man in the kimono with wide eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Ace’s voice was almost awestruck as he turned to look back at Marco who closed his eyes and wanted nothing more than to just disappear.

“A while back Jozu and the rest of 3rd division got in a fight with marines and it was an easy fight, but then, out of nowhere comes this blue fireball that somehow manages to not just knock Jozu off his feat, but toss him into the sea! Pops and the 1st division had to step in and save him!” Izo’s serious tone had all but disappeared as he spoke with the excitement of a schoolboy sharing a rumour with his friends. Marco felt the hands holding him shift slightly as if to get a better grip as Thatch muttered to the others.

“Man, Jozu is still pissed about that.” Sighing heavily, Marco haphazardly mumbled his defence.

“To be fair, he attacked us first, and Whitebeard chopped me in half for it afterwards, so I think we are even.” It had been the only time Marco had ever encountered any Whitebeard pirate of note, and the marines had just happened upon a meeting between the 3rd division commander Jozu and the 1st division commander and Captain, Edward Newgate himself. It had not been a pretty fight.

Izo and Thatch shared another one of their looks and they seemed to reach some kind of agreement as Izo swiftly set about pushing the small boat into the sea. As soon as the boat was in the water, Thatch placed the wounded marine in it and quickly followed himself. Ace jumped in to sit next to Marco, who felt more and more self conscious for each second the younger pirate regarded him with badly hidden awe.

With one last push, Izo himself jumped aboard and handed two oares to Thatch who began to row. As the pirates chatted amongst themselves, Marco did his best to seem bored and uninterested. Any piece of information they revealed could prove valuable to his survival an to the marines once he returned. 

Yet despite what Marco wanted to tell himself, it wasn’t an act when his eyes fell closed and his feverish body started to sag against Fire Fist. And as the conversation turned to the 4th division and their recently acquired huge heap of treasure and spoils, Marco felt his consciousness leave him as the dark abyss of sleep embraced him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my fic!  
If you spot any grammatical errors or typos, shout them at me in the comments so that I can correct them!
> 
> I have been procrastinating instead of preparing for my exam.  
I wasted 2 days writing this when I should have been preparing.  
Yet i just could not stop thinking about this fic and focus on my exam no matter what i did. So I'm just posting this now to bring my focus back to my work.  
And I'm not allowed to write anymore before December!


	2. No hard feelings

When Marco regained consciousness, everything seemed slightly off. It was as if he was viewing the world through a pane of glass

He felt himself sitting on a soft surface, like a bed, but he had been sleeping in a hammock with the rest of the crew for years. The only reason for anyone to be in a bed would be if they were hurt and in the infirmary, but Marco didn’t stay hurt. And why would he be sitting in bed if?

His next thought was less a thought and more of a realisation. Someone were tugging at his hands where they were chained in his lap. Small jerks and muttered curses was a constant distraction from his third and most surprising realisation.

Marco felt drunk.

Or at least he thought this was what being drunk felt like. It had been years since he last got drunk. It was strange. Mildly aware that his eyes were open, Marco saw the hands fidgeting with the shackles shift around the lockpick and dig out a big splinter. So that was the debris that jammed the lock. Catching movement in the corner of his eye to his right, Marco spotted the familiar orange hat of Fire Fist.

“-think he’s awake.” The kid’s lips were moving, but Marco’s mind felt like it was swimming in tar, and it was really hard comprehend what he was saying.

“No way. We pumped him full of enough painkillers to knock out pops.” That voice was also familiar, but Marco’s mind couldn’t quite place it. He could see the edge of a pompadour to his left, but turning his head seemed to be beyond his abilities at the moment.

“No I’m pretty sure he’s awake. Hey Marco, you in here?” A hand waved in front of Marco’s eyes, snapping him back into his own mind. Slowly he turned his head towards Ace, only for the world to tilt around him.

“Woah watch out man.” The man with the weird hair steadied Marco with a hand on his shoulder as the marine slowly tilted to the left. “Ok so the painkillers are definitely kicking in. How are you doing Izo?”

Izo. That was the third ones name. Izo was the one with the gun, who had threatened Marco before Ace came charging. Where was Izo? Turning his head back towards this hands, Marco’s eyes followed the delicate fingers that were picking the lock up to the frowning face of the pirate. Izo mumbled something around the multiple lockpicks in his mouth.

He must be getting the cuffs off him. That was nice of the pirates. Pretty stupid, but nice. They should just chop them off, it was a lot quicker. It also saved medical supplies, and the infirmaries were always low on supplies. Unless you were traveling with a rear admiral or a base commander. They always had supplies.

The creaking of a door caused Ace to turn his head to the right. Marco felt a little more steady as he turned his head to look at the approaching man. He had broad shoulders and a tall, dark blue top hat, yet it was the wide slightly curled mustache that Marco’s eyes fixated on as the man spoke. 

“16th division just arrived from picking up the 2nd. Theor ship was wrecked, but they managed to paddle it to an island before it sank, so there were no casualties. If we divide them up amongst the 4th and 5th division we should have enough rooms and supplies for the tripp.”

Marco could see relief wash over Ace as he got news of his crew. He felt slightly bad for attacking them, seeing how much the young pirate cared for them, but Marco didn’t dwell on it. They were pirates, and he had orders. The newcomer turned to Izo who frowned at the lock. 

“How’s the guy doing? You got the chains open yet?” The only response was an annoyed mumble that Marco couldn’t make out, yet somehow the pirates all seemed to understand. Silence followed as Izo kept fighting the lock, and the pirate in the top hat sighed and pulled up a chair.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit overkill to have three commanders on standby for a single injured Marine? I know Ace said he was hot shit, but let’s-” The pirate was interrupted by the click of the handcuffs springing open. Izo removed the cuffs from Marco’s hands and leant back to wipe his own brows only to shriek and jerk back as Marco’s left leg to burst in blue flames. The mustached man's hand immediately went to the hilt of his sword, and that was all the motivation Marco’s muddled mind needed to take action. 

As his mind began to clear, years of training that were drilled into him were the first to surface. Marco was surrounded by armed enemies, one of witch just reached for his blade. In a matter of seconds, Marco rolled of the bed and threw himself to the left away from the swordsman. Shooting past the pirate with the big hair, Marco was briefly tempted to grab one of his swords, but he decided against it.

Marco’s head was still foggy as he spun around to keep his eyes on the enemies. He felt his ribs snapp back in place as blue flames licked his chest, and his head was clearing up by the second. As Marco came to a stop he barely had a split second to raise his leg to kick away the sword swinging towards his neck.

As Marco’s head finally cleared properly he spun himself around in a roundhouse kick and sent the pirate flying, knocking his hat off in the process. Bracing for the next attack, Marco was surprised to hear Fire Fist objecting.

“Woah guys! Stop it Vista, Marco let’s just talk!” As the pirate spoke he darted between the swordsman and the cornered marine and raised his hands in an obvious sign of peace. As the flames around Marco’s body died out completely, his body and mind back to 100% he finally got a good look at the pirates.

Thatch, 4th division commander of the whitebeard pirates had his hand on the hilt of one of his swords but made no other outwardly hostile motions. Izo, 16th division commander had his pistol loaded in his hand, but it was aimed down towards the floor while the man kept his eyes locked on Marco. He didn’t doubt for a second that the pirate could aim and fire before Marco so much as blinked.

The one Marco had sent flying, Vista, was getting to his feet. He was still armed, but as Fire Fist turned his back to Marco to keep an eye on the pirates he seemed to pause the attack. Shifting his feet, Marco carefully scolded his face into a bored mask as he spoke. 

"In my defence, he did pull his sword at me." The deadpan statement caused Ace to turn around and give Marco an unimpressed glare as the swordsman got back into a fighting stance. 

"You are the one who attacked Izo with whatever those flames were." The pirate, Vista they had called him, had two swords drawn as he glared daggers at the marine. But marco took note of what he said. They believed his fire would hurt them. That misinformation could work to his advantage later when he tried to escape. Carefully considering his words Marco spoke. 

“In my defence, I just woke up surrounded by wanted pirates so I am a little on edge at the moment." Marco's words were a bit more clipped than he would have liked, but he saw Izo's eyes glance over and meet Thatch's in a silent conversation. Pushing his luck, Marco let a little of his worry seep into his words as he continued. 

"And being high on painkillers does not make it easier to make good decisions when captured by the enemy." Vista seemed to lower his guard slightly as Ace spun around to face Marco properly. 

"No need to phrase it like that Marco. You make it sound like we chained you up and tossed you in a cage." The young pirate almost sounded offended at the insinuation that Marco was a captive. Marco kept his bored mask up as he spoke, despite his frustration at the pirates. 

"Well, if I am not a captive, then I would very much like to be on my way." Marco's unamused voice left the room in silence as the pirates communicated silently with their eyes. Marco was beginning to grow tired of not being able to tell what they were saying. He had always been good at reading people, but these pirates seemed to have a secret language of glances and glares. 

"You are not really a captive, but we can't let you go before we report back to the captain." The one they called Thatch took a couple of steps towards him as he spoke. Marco shifted back into a battle stance, but the pirate either didn't notice or didn't care as he walked closer. 

"So how about we make a deal? You stay here without causing problems for 3 days until we meet up with Pops. Then we leave you at the port and let you do your own thing." Marco eyes the pirate with suspicion as he held out a hand. He was hesitant to accept a deal from a pirate, but considering his other options it was most likely his best shot at getting out of red-hair's territory without alerting the man of his presence. Sighing heavily Marco shok the hand. 

"I have one condition. If you are going to chain me with seastone again then please chain my hands separately so that i won't need help to get dressed. I'll give up my freedom for a few days, but I want to keep my dignity.". Marco’s bored mask cracked as he mirrored the small smirk on the pirates face. 

And that was how Marco found himself exiting the infirmary with a sett of seastone cuffs around each wrist, flanked by the 4th and 5th division commanders of the Whitebeard pirates as Ace and Izo bickered in front of him as they lead the way. The sun had been high in the sky as they came up to the crowded deck where pirates were enjoying dinner in the cool breeze. 

Thatch had informed him that he was on the 4th division ship along with a third of the 2nd division. The rest of the second division was equally divided between the 5th and 16th divisions ships that were sailing together with them in the small fleet. While Marco could use Haki to get a handle on the numbers of men on the ships, he didn’t quite grasp the scale of 4 full divisions and 3 of the Whitebeard-pirates’s biggest ships before he saw the huge ships sail next to them. The huge density of pirates also forced them to have dinner out on deck rather than the cramped dining hall.

Marco ignored the obvious whispers and stared as he followed the commanders to a table where Thatch told them to sit while he got them dinner. He sat down between Ace and Izo as Vista sat down directly across from him and frowned in his direction. 

"You're name was Vista, right?" Marco asked in a casual tone. The moustached man nodded. 

"Look, I'm sorry about earlier. I honestly just acted on instinct. And considering my first meeting with Fire Fist here," Marco waved his hand towards the offended pirate, "You can't really blame my instincts for telling me to fight." 

For a moment the pirate kept frowning, but then he gave a heavy sigh and a small smile spread across his face. 

"Yeah I understand. I just don't appreciate anyone attacking my brothers. Sorry for trying to kill you. Truce?" Marco smiled back at the pirate and nodded just as Thatch returned carrying five big bowls of soup and five tankards of rum, handing them out to the group with a smile

"Here you go! And don't worry about Ace, I’ll keep him out of your plate.” Marco chuckled slightly at the offended outburst from the pirate. Taking a spoonful Marco was briefly taken aback as the wonderful taste washed over his tongue. It was leagues better than the tasteless meal he normally got on a ship.

“Don’t worry. He wouldn’t be able to get it even if he tried.” Marco said as he ate another spoonful of the delicious meal. The commanders around him laughed as they began eating, and Marco heard the whispers from the crew be replaced with friendly chatter as they turned back to their meals.

The rest of the meal passed by in as much peace you could expect from a pirate crew. Marco tried to remain uninterested as he strained to catch the conversations between the crew mates. Despite the loss of the 2nd division ship morale remained high as the 4th division bragged about the new haul they managed to secure from a reckless and insufferable rookie. According to an excitable pirate, they had gotten their hands on enough gold to build a brand new ship and still have enough left over for a party.

After a little while, Marco noticed Fire Fist sett down his bowl and start eying Vista’s meal as the moustached pirate was chatting happily with Izo. In a quick movement, Ace’s hand reached for the bowl only for Marco to grab the boy’s wrist with his left hand as he kept eating. 

“Be nice to your crew mates Fire Fist.” Marco grinned at the frowning kid before he downed the last spoonful of his own meal. Thatch who had been watching the whole ordeal laughed as Ace yanked his hand free from Marco’s grip. 

“With reflexes like that it’s a wonder Fire Ass over here managed to get those cuffs on you at all.” the man laughed as he handed Ace his own half full bowl. 

“He didn’t” Marco said as he reached for his tankard. “One of his crewmates grabbed and restrained me as another got the cuffs on.” 

“Who was it? That’s such a lame way to fight!” Ace’s outburst brought a frown to Marcos face. 

“It was a smart move. If it hadn’t it been for those cuffs you would have lost far more than a ship.” Marco’s tone was cold and professional as he spoke. The pirates eating around them had fallen silent as they listened to the conversation. Ace frowned as Marco set down his tankard with a heavy thud.

“Is that a challenge.” Ace’s frown morphed into a cold grin as he placed his hat on the table and stood to his feet. 

“No. It’s an observation. Now sit down. I promised Thatch not to cause any problems.” Marco’s deadpan delivery only seemed to fire up the pirate more and a tense silence fell across the deck. Marco heard the shuffling of pirates evacuating the deck behind him as he focused his Haki. Marco raised the tankard to his lips and casually took a sip.

“Thatch, tell Marco he wouldn’t be causing problems if he had a sparring match with me!” Ace shouted at the slightly surprised pirate. Glancing around them to make sure nobody else was in the line of fire Thatch let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Fine, but you two are not allowed to ruin another ship. Don’t you go starting any fires or so help me I-” Marco swung his left hand against Fire Fist, backhanding the man with the seastone shackles. Pressing the seastone into the logia Marco swung himself off his seat and used the momentum to pull Ace to the ground. Landing with folded legs on top of the boy, Marco’s right hand went to the dagger on Ace’s belt and pulled it from it’s sheet. In a final swift movement the Marine placed the tip of the cold steel blade against the pirate’s adams apple and stopped moving.

“I won.” Marco broke the stunned silence that had fallen over the deck as as he got to his feet. Taking the dagger into his left hand, Marco held out his right hand to Ace as the pirate pushed himself into a sitting position. To his surprise the took the hand and pulled himself to his feet despite the frown on his face.

“How the hell do you keep doing that?” Smiling softly at the frustration in the kid’s voice Marco handed him back the dagger and patted his shoulder.

“I have been arresting overconfident rookies for longer than you have sailed the seas, and the ones who get caught all make the same mistake” Taking a few steps back to the table where the commanders all removed their hands from their weapons, Marco grabbed his tankard.

“They all believe they can win fights they have no right being in. Logia users in particular keep overestimating their abilities until a haki user knocks them on their ass and they start to panic.” Taking a drink, Marco saw Izo smirk at Vista as Fire Fist sheepishly avoided eye contact. A couple of the pirates on deck muttered to each other as Marco placed the tankard back down.

“That’s why we’re going to need all the time we can get to continue your training.” The sheepish look on Ace’s face was replaced with confused disbelief as he met Marco’s gaze. 

“What are you talking about?” Marco leaned back towards the table as the young pirate asked in a confused tone.

“You asked me to train you in Haki, and I agreed. I don’t leave things half finished, so go get a sack of potatoes and a blindfold. We only have a couple of days.” As Ace’s face split into a bright grin, Margo smirked back at the pirate. As the kid ran back below deck, Marco became acutely aware of all the eyes directed towards him.

“That’s not very marine-like of you. Training your enemy in how to avoid being captured.” Izo’s voice carried an emotion Marco couldn’t place. Not quite distrust or suspicion, yet something along those lines. Sighing Marco looked up at the clouds that were passing by far above them.

“I wasn’t lying you know. Logias have a tendency to believe themselves invincible until they end up dead. I was dead when Ace pulled me out of the sea. I am just repaying him by keeping him alive.” But that wasn’t the entire truth. Marco wasn’t just repaying the kid to break even. A small voice in the back of his head kept reminding him of the happy smile on Ace’s face as he spoke about his brother and the matching grin on the rookie who defeated the fishmen of east blue. The voice reminded him that the kid was not just a pirate, but a person with his own friends and family.

Pushing the voice to the back of his mind, Marco frowned. He thought he got over his quarrels of the morality of justice years ago. He had arrested countless pirates, any number of them brothers, sister and friends. They were criminals first, all else second. Yet as he had dined with one of the most infamous pirate crews on the grand line, they had bickered like siblings.

“How noble of you.” Vista said with a knowing smile as he downed the rest of his rum. “Well we would not want to keep you from your noble duties for long, oh great marine.” Standing up he raised his voice and called out to the crew.

“Get back to work guys! We don’t want to keep Pop’s waiting now do we?!” The pirates shouted back in a jumbled mess of affirmative comments before they began to disperse and head back to their stations. Marco saw as the other two ships unfurl their sails and catch the cool breeze with ease as the order was given. Despite their love for anarchy, Marco had to admit that the crews worked together like a well oiled machine.

“Hey Thatch, What about the second division?” A large man with unruly black hair and a long, crooked nose called from a table close by where he sat with a few other pirates that looked a little lost.

“I would ask you to help in the kitchen, but it’s already cramped as it is.” Thatch trailed off as he considered where to best apply the 2nd division without having them trip over each other.

“They could always join me in throwing potatoes at their blindfolded commander.” A mixture of suspicion, excitement and disbelief crossed their faces at Marco’s suggestion. Thatch gave him a questioning look and Marco shrugged.

“They won’t get in your way and they will keep Ace from burning down the ship. They might also pick up some Haki control themselves. It’s a win win.” Marco’s smirk was mirrored on Izo’s face as Thatch and Vista laughed. 

“That reminds me, I have a third of the second division ready to wreak havoc on my ship. I’ll see you all later.” Izo stood from the table and turned to leave, Vista following close behind as the two commanders made their way back towards their own ships. Thatch sighed loudly as he looked out across the deck.

“Sure, keep yourselves busy up on deck. Normally I’d have you down in the hull, sweeping the storerooms, but right now we are ready to burst with gold so you won’t even find the floor down there.” There was no small amount of pride as Thatch bragged. Excusing himself, the 4th division commander said something about “preparing the kitchen for the horrifying task of feeding Fire Fist” as he made his way down below deck.

Marco studied the pirates of the 2nd division as he waited for Ace to return. He recognised a few of them from the fight, and found himself surprisingly relieved that the worst wound he could see was the broken nose of the big guy who had spoken earlier. A memory tickled the back of his mind as he studied the man.

“Did I do that?” Marco gestured vaguely to his own nose as he addressed the pirate. With a rough laugh the large man smiled and raised a tankard. 

“I was hoping you wouldn’t recognise me. Like you said, If we hadn’t gotten the cuffs on you we would have lost badly. No hard feelings?” The rough laugh and voice clashed slightly with the jovial smile of the man, but Marco smiled back at him as he recognised him as the huge man that had restrained him during the fight. 

“None at all. I’m Marco.” Walking close, Marco held out his hand in a greeting. A large hand clasped his as the pirate smiled brightly.

“I’m Teach.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very dialogue heavy despite my best efforts to keep the action flowing.  
It is also considerably shorter, considering I promised myself not to write any more before my exam.  
I haven't had my exam yet. But I took a break. I worked all last weak. 
> 
> And the newest One Piece chapters have me hooked. So One Piece is always on my mind.


	3. Storms on the horizon

Thatch closed the door behind him as he entered his personal quarters. While he loved his brothers, they were a nightmare to feed. Especially when they only had supplies for three out of the four divisions currently traveling in the fleet. The 4th and 16th divisions had been traveling together when they had gotten the order to help search for the 2nd division as they had been close to where they were attacked. The 5th division had been passing by as well and had been the first to locate the crew to learn of the commander’s disappearance.

Walking over to his desk, Thatch let out a long drawn out sight as he sat down. Ever since vista informed them that Ace had disappeared out at sea, cold dread had settled in the pit of Thatch’s stomach. The kid was skilled, but the marine’s display on deck during dinner only went to prove what overconfidence would get him. Marco had said that most ability users grew overconfident and was taken down by their own recklessness. 

Frowning, Thatch looked over at the Devil fruit on in a small chest on his desk. He really didn’t know what to do with it. Whatever ability he got could be super useful and cool but it could also be little more than a party trick, and sacrificing his ability to swim for a dumb ability like turning into a caterpillar would not be worth it.

Perhaps Ace could share some insight into his own decision to eat a fruit. He should probably go make sure the 2nd division weren’t causing problems anyways. Thatch made his way back out towards the deck, only to open the doors and almost be smacked in the face by a flying potato. If it hadn’t been for Marco’s hand catching it mere inches from his nose, Thatch would have gotten a black eye.

“Sorry about that. Some are better at throwing than others.” Marco smirked as he turned and threw the potato across deck, and Thatch looked as it almost smacked into the head of his blindfolded brother, only for Ace to frantically dodge to the side. Across the deck were four other blindfolded pirates who were having varying degrees of success as the remaining brothers on deck took glee in pelting them with potatoes.

“Marco did you see that!? I dodge-” Ace spun around and began to yell in the direction he thought Marco was in, only to be cut off as Teach threw a potato directly into his mouth. Laughter erupted across deck, and Thatch was sure he saw Marco chuckle briefly before he scolded his face into a stern expression.

“Everyone put the potatoes down! Take a short break and be ready to start back up in ten minutes” Marco gave orders across deck like a man with authority, and Thatch chuckled lightly as the big group of pirates followed the marine’s orders. As Ace pulled off his blindfold he spun around and spotted Marco and Thatch.

“Did you see that? I dodged one! I felt it and dodged out of the way!” Ace’s smile was impossibly wide as he rushed up to the pair with Teach following close behind but at a slower pace. 

“I saw you eat one of the potatoes Teach threw.” Marco’s stern mask cracked into a smirk as he teased Ace. Teach burst out laughing as Ace sent him a death glare before turning back towards Marco. 

“Come on! I’m getting better!” Thatch studied Marco’s face out of the corner of his eye as the marine’s smile changed from a teasing smirk into a softer and more proud smile. 

“You are a quick learner. Most marines need weeks before they dodge a single potato.” Ace’s huge grin grew into an almost shy smile at the praise. He muttered something about being far better than marines, only to cut off by Teach.

“What brings you out from the kitchen Commander? I thought you would still be preparing Ace’s next meal.” Letting out a small laugh at his brother, Thatch spoke.

“I need some advice, and strangely Ace seemed like a good choice.” A look of surprise and a confusion crossed Ace’s face at Thatch's words. Thatch saw Marco study the 2nd division commanders face for a few second before the marine spoke.

”Well then, I guess I will take my leave then.” Marco started to walk away, only for Thatch to reach out and grab his wrist.

”Hold on Marco, your insight would actually be great too.” Marco was considerably more skilled at hiding it than Ace was, but Thatch could just about make out a little surprise behind the marine’s bored facade. It didn’t last long however as he turned towards Teach.

“Seems like you will have to start back up without us Teach. Get someone new in the blindfolds and keep going until we return.” As Marco turned back towards him, Thatch signaled for the two men to follow him as he made his way back towards his room. 

It was uncanny to watch the marine as they walked through the ship. He had been there for less than a day, yet somehow the marine seemed to have memorised the layout from his short trip up from the infirmary. And as the three of them made their way in the direction of Thatch's office, the bored mask seemed to slip as Marco was laser focused on his surroundings. 

As they entered Thatch's small room Ace immediately lit a few of the candles as Thatch watched Marco quickly scan the room before entering. 

"So, here's the deal." Thatch pushed his way past the other two men in the cramped space and grabbed the box from the desk. 

"When we looted our last opponent I found a devil fruit that none of us recognise. I found it, so it's mine to eat if I want to, but I don't know if I should." As he spoke, Thatch opened the box and pulled out the fruit. 

"That's so cool! You don't know what it does right? Imagine if it gives you a super lame power like turning into a horse!" Ace laughed as he pressed close to get a good look at the fruit. Marco stayed silent as Thatch continued. 

"That's why I don't know if i want to eat it or not. If it's just a stupid gimmick then it won't be worth losing my ability to swim for, right?" Ace's laughter died down in favour of a proud grin. 

"I don't know Thatch, I have seen someone manage to turn a body made out of rubber into an asset. I'm sure you could pull off being a horse." Elbowing his younger brother hard in the side, Thatch smiled fondly at him. 

"I'm not going to become a horse Ace." Ace's teasing grin impossibly grew wider. 

"Aww of course Thatch, I'm sure you could trade it for a pony fruit instead. Just imagine cute little pony Thatch prancing around as-" Ace devolved into laughter as Thatch tried to elbow him in the side again only to miss as Ace backed up in the cramped space and the chef ended up tumbling forwards instead. 

Thatch was about to lunge for the laughing kid again, planning to smack the lovable idiots head, when their bickering was interrupted by Marco's low voice. 

"You shouldn't eat it. Not yet at least." Thatch sent him a questioning look as the marine continued. “Right now you are sailing in the new world. You are surrounded by bounty hunters, marines, pirates, seakings and countless other things that wants you dead. The moment you eat that fruit you gain new abilities that you have no control over. Until you learn how to control them you will either be a liability or a danger to your own crew.”

Marco’s quiet words carries an emotion that Thatch couldn't quite place as the marine gazed at the fruit. His eyes were locked on the purple swirls of the fruit, yet somehow they seemed far away. Meeting Ace’s eyes made it clear that the younger commander also had noticed the marines reaction. Thatch was about to say something as Marco suddenly went stiff as a board and his head whipped towards the door. A few seconds of tense silence hung in the air.

“I am going to return to the deck to keep an eye on the training.” And with that, Marco turned on his heel and marched stiffly out of the small room. Ace looked torn, wanting to follow him, but Thatch held up his hand to tell him to let the marine go. The man clearly wanted to be alone and Thatch didn’t feel like pushing him would be a good idea.

Marco scanned his surroundings as he closed the door behind him. He was certain that he had sensed someone loitering by the door, but the hallway remained empty. Reaching out with his observational haki, Marco felt multiple pirates above and around him in the ship. Had it been on captain Shu's ship, Marco could have been able to identify every individual person, but with this many new pirates around him it was difficult to tell them all apart. 

Taking a deep breath, Marco began making his way back towards deck. If the walls had ears then he would have to be careful what he said to Ace. Frowning Marco stopped that train of thought. Ace was a pirate. Of course he would have to be careful what he said to any pirate. And while Ace and the other commanders seemed nice enough, they were still criminals. They held him captive here against his own will. 

Ok, when he said it like that it sounded like he was kept chained in a dark cell. It was honestly not to bad. He was allowed to walk around freely. He was given the same food as the crew, and was allowed to do talk to whoever he wanted. He almost felt more free than he did back at base with all his stuck up superiors and regulations. 

No. He was not going to let his thoughts go there. He was not a criminal, and he was not a traitor. Marching down the final hallway Marco pushed open the doors that lead back out to the deck. The second division were still busy with the haki training, and a couple of fourth division crewmembers had settled down to watch them toss potatoes at each other. 

When Marco stepped out on deck a few of the pirates turned towards him. Seeing the marine return without the two commanders didn't seem to worry the pirates. Teach who were in the middle of tossing a potato at another blindfolded pirate tok a few steps closer. 

"Gather up boys, the teacher is back on deck!" The rough shout from Teach echoed across deck as all the pirates turned towards them. But Marco's eyes fell on a particular cloud, drifting lazily in the sky as he felt the air around him change. Frowning, he didn't pay attention as the pirates gathered around them as Teach spoke. Silence fell, and Marco realised he hadn't heard the question that had been asked, but that didn't matter. The pressure of the atmosphere had changed, and the clouds were moving in a familiar yet concerning pattern. 

"There's a storm approaching." he muttered quietly as he studied the skies. A few of the pirates followed his gaze and turned to look at the unsuspecting cloud. One of the pirates that had worn a blindfold spoke up in a dismissive tone. 

"The navigators predicted good wind until sundown." 

"There will wind alright. There is a storm coming, and if this ship remains this close to the others then they will all crash and sink." Marco’s voice left no room for discussion as he pushed his was through the pirates and made his way to the front of the ship. The other two ships hadn't seemed to notice the upcoming storm either, something that was concerning considering how close they were. The storms of the new world were quick to appear, quick to disappear and were far more ruthless than any storm you encountered in paradise. It took years of training to be able to spot one growing, and even longer to be able to navigate one. 

"You two!" Marco pointed at two of the pirates around him. "Inform the other two ships of an approaching storm. We need more distance between us to be safe.". Turning to point at another pirate, Marco continued to bark orders. 

"You, get the commanders. They are in Thatch's quarters. The rest of you, get the sails folded and secure the deck." For a moment, the pirates just stared at him, but then Teach's voice rung across deck again. 

"You heard the man! Get to it!" The pirates leaped into action and scattered across the deck. Marco caught Teach's wrist as the man was about to rush off. 

"Get the navigators and secure this ship for the winds. I need to get a better look at the currents to know what we are dealing with. Leaving the pirate behind, Marco rushed to the mast and began climbing towards the crows-nest. He was up in less than a minute and perched himself by the railing.

Scanning the sea around them, Marco studied the currents as they curled and changed around them. If they kept flowing like this then it would all be fine, but the moment one of the currents either reversed or turned downwards there would be a chance of tsunamis of whirlpools that could crush the three ships against each other. Below him Marco heard the sounds of the navigators and commanders arguing as they emerged on deck. It seemed like the navigators refused to accept that they were wrong about their nice predictions. The other two ships were frantically moving to create distance between them, so they had luckily listened to his warning. 

As he studied another current that was curling in a worrying was, a blaze of fire leaped up next to him as Ace landed on the railing. Glancing at the younger man, Marco saw the question in his eyes and pointed at the concerning current. 

"The winds won't be too bad for the ship, but the currents are bad. That one is starting to curl down and is merging with another. The atmospheric pressure also indicates thunder and hail." Turning back to meet Ace's blank stare Marco took a deep breath to combat his frustration. 

"Soon there will be whirlpools, thunder and hail the size of horses. If we stay this close to the other ships, we won't have room to dodge it." Ace seemed to contemplate the situation for a moment before his face hardened in a determined grin. 

"You can read the currents, right?" Marco nodded. "Call out anything that's worth worrying about. I'll handle the hail, and Thatch and the navigators will take care of the rest." Before Marco could give an affirmative reply Ace created a blast of fire below him and launched himself towards the 5th divisions ship. 

When the first small pieces of hail began to fall, Marco saw a whirlpool starting to form close to the 16th divisions ship. Calling it out, Marco heard his message repeated into a transponder snail, and in less than a minute the ship was turning to avoid the whirlpool. 

As the hail grew larger, fireballs began flying across the sky, melting them before they hit the ships. Fire fist would launch himself between the ships with practised ease as the ships weaved between whirlpools, landing for a second only to launch fireballs at the sky before moving on to the next ship again. Marco's body was soaked in melted hail and bruised from the smaller ice chunks that peppered the ships. The cold winds grew into a biting storm, chilling Marco to his core, yet he remained vigilant and kept calling out the currents. The navigators from the other ships regularly called in their own observations and together they managed to swerve between the waves and whirlpools without crashing into each other.

The minutes grew to hours and the pirates began to grow tiered. The storm was abnormally long for a New world storm, and the crew were rotating shifts long into the night in order for the soaked pirates to get food and rest. However, as the sun set behind the storm clouds and yet another shift change came about, the commanders and navigators started to feel the exhaustion set in. While the other crew-mates got the opportunity to take breaks to eat and rest the commanders and navigators were needed constantly to give orders. Marco himself had been positioned in the crows-nest for the entire duration of the storm, refusing to take even the shortest breaks.

By the time the storm finally began to disperse, and the moon peeked out from between the clouds Marco could feel cold exhaustion radiating from the seastone handcuffs. While he didn’t collapse like an overconfident rookie the moment he touched the stuff, the sensation that came with seastone was still uncomfortable. Especially when he had to do physically taxing work. 

As the ocean fell silent as the skies cleared, Marco collapsed against the railing of the crows-nest, sliding down to sit as he caught his breath. From the corner of his eye he could see the other ships drifting lazily close by. Wincing as he moved, Marco became acutely aware of his bruised and shivering body. He was contemplating just going to sleep in the crows-nest and dealing with the pirates in the morning, but at low growl from his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since the middle of the day. And judging from the position of the moon it had to be close to midnight by now. He was about to pull himself to his feet and start the long climb down when Ace landed ungracefully on the railing and stumbled into the crows-nest.

“You look like shit.” the pirate joked with a tiered grin as he stepped down into the crows-nest. Marco wanted to give a sharp retort, but as another wave of exhaustion washed over him he abandoned it in favour catching his own breath. The seastone combined with the cold air and Marco’s drenched clothes made his muscles lock up and shiver. It had been ages since the last time he had to deal with a 12 hour storm in the new world, and even longer since he had had to do it without his abilities.

“-ou alright Marco?” Marco didn’t remember closing his eyes, but he opened them to look at the concerned face of Ace as the younger man were kneeling in front of him. Giving Ace a small smile, Marco pushed himself to his feet as he leaned on the railing.

“Yeah I’m fine, just tired.” He would probably be more convincing if he hadn’t had to grab the railing to stop from swaying on his feet. Ace gave him an unimpressed look, but didn’t argue as they began climbing down the mast.

“Thatch had the other chefs prepare some warm soup when we get down. I’ll go get you a dry change of clothes, so just head to the dining hall.” And with a burst of flames the pirate jumped down the remainder of the mast and rushed ahead into the hull of the ship.

Reaching the deck, Marco took great pleasure in going below deck and getting away from the cold wind. He hadn’t really grasped how cold he was before he was surrounded by the warmth of the interior of the ship. A few pirates were huddled in the hallway, drying themselves off and drinking from steaming mugs. 

Marco eyed one of the mugs longingly only for a similar one to be shoved into his shaking hands by a exhausted looking Thatch. The warmth of the mug immediately seeped into the marines hands as he wrapped them around the hot beverage and Marco sighed contently as he brought the hot chocolate up to his lips. He relished in the warmth as the hot chocolate seemed to heat him to his core.

“Thank you” Marco sighed contently as he took another sip from the mug. Thatch tossed a towel towards him and Marco almost didn’t catch it as he was reluctant to remove one of his hands from the mug. In the end Marco did catch the towel and draped it across his shoulders before he grasped the mug again.

“Don’t mention it. You really helped out during the storm, so the least we can do is offer you a hot drink and a towel.” Thatch said with a smile before he continued around the hallway to refill mugs and hand out towels to the pirates. Leaning back against the wall Marco took another sip and let the warmth from the drink flow through him. 

As he began to dry Marco felt his hand stop shaking and he let out a content sigh. This day really had been one mess after another, but it wasn’t the worst kidnapping he could imagine. Despite their reluctance in the beginning, once the navigators accepted that the storm was coming they had been efficient and capable. Marco had left them the difficult task of reading the constantly changing winds of the new world, and appart from a few suspenseful moments when they drifted too close for comfort the three ships had barely even strayed from their course. 

Draining the remainder of liquid from the mug, Marco caught the eyed said navigators nursing their own mugs across the hall. The ship had an older navigator and two apprentices that all looked about as exhausted as Marco felt. Catching the grim-looking navigator’s eye, Marco gave him an acknowledging nod.

“How the bloody hell did you see the storm coming?” The navigator questioned in a tone of frustrated disbelief. “I was sure the calm would last for at least 8 more hours.” While the pirate had a deep frown on his face, Marco sensed no malice in his voice. And after a storm like that, Marco wouldn’t fault a guy for not being all smiles and sunshine. The two younger apprentices waited for the answer with barely hidden excitement in their eyes, and Marco felt a small smile tug at his lips. 

“The atmospheric pressure suddenly dropped and I saw a cloud being pulled in multiple directions as the winds changed. It’s a sure sign that we are leaving the magnetic fields of one island and entering another, something that more likely than not brings storms.” The two younger pirates glanced at each other as the older navigator scrutinised the marine’s face. Gesturing towards the door, Marco continued; “However, I have to admit i was not prepared of a long storm like this. If we had to suffer through this every time we sail from one island to another then I’d rather head back to paradise.”

The deep frown on the navigator’s face split into a grin as he chuckled and his apprentices looked surprised at the jovial sound. ”You’re sharp kid.” Marco raised an unimpressed eyebrow and the navigator continued. “A navigator needs to notice the small details, and he needs to react quickly. You got what it takes kid.”

“I have been navigating the new world for close to 30 years old man. I’m not a kid.” Marco tried to argue but the older man turned and began walking away before the marine was even done talking. One of the apprentices chuckled at Marco's plight before he followed his boss. The other, a young man with short blonde hair and a sharp nose smiled apologetically at Marco. 

"Don't mind old man Hank, he doesn't mean any offence. He just doesn't like to admit that he was wrong." The kid spoke quietly. Marco studied the shy, young mans face for a second. 

"Don't worry. If I still got offended by taunts I wouldn't be sailing the new world." Marco smiled at the relief in the kid's eyes and briefly considered his options. 

"If you help me navigate my way to a hot meal, I'll give you some tips as to how to avoid another storm like this." The young man's face lit up with surprise and excitement as the kid eagerly accepted the proposal. 

Marco decidedly ignored the voice in his mind that reminded him that he already knew the way to the kitchens and mess-hall. He told himself that he didn't trust his own memory when he was this tiered. This would be the most beneficial course of action he lied. 

It's not like he was going to teach the kid anything a New World navigator shouldn't already know. Not telling him would just me delaying the inevitable. Unlike haki training which was a skill that would directly work against the marines trying to capture the pirates. But this was not the time to unpack that mess. Marco was far too tired to delve into that minefield of contradictions. 

As the young pirate held the door for the dining hall open for him, Marco felt the eyes of the entire room turn and land on him. Making their way to an empty table, the young pirate told him to sit while he got them some warm food. Doing as the was told, Marco decidedly ignored the many eyes on him and decided to examine a particularly interesting pattern in the wooden table. 

Leaning his elbows on the table, Marco felt his head sink against his hands. Yet again he cursed the seastone and the cold exhaustion it brought. He was still dressed in the tattered remains of what was once his uniform, but at least he was not totally drenched anymore. 

The sound of a mug being placed in front of him caused Marco to jerk and sitt up straight as he opened his eyes. Cursing himself for letting his guard down and almost falling asleep on a pirate ship, Marco looked at the newcomer. 

The man was tall and slender with a bald head and a wide mouth that curved into a somewhat strained smile. In one of his hands he held a steaming mug that matched the one placed in front of Marco. 

"You looked like you needed a warm drink. Mind if I sitt?" Gesturing for the man to sit, Marco subtly looked around him. Quite a few pirates were watching them with with either badly hidden interest or concern as. Tense silence filled the room. 

"You are the third person to tell me I look like shit over the last twenty minutes. I'm starting to feel a little self conscious." The strained smile faded and was replaced by a more natural smile as the pirate sat down. The silence faded as the pirates resumed chattering amongst themselves. There was still a couple concerned glances thrown his way, but Marco paid them little mind. 

"I'm Devon. I'm part of the 4th, Your name was Marco, right?" Marco nodded as he lifted the mug to his lips to take a small sip. One mug of hot chocolate had been more than enough sweet for one evening, but it was hard to resist the heat it offered. 

"So, Marco, I have a favour to ask you." As Marco raised an unimpressed eyebrow the pirate raised his hands in mock surrender. "Just hear me out ok? The second division is super tight lipped as to why they ended up fighting the marines, and how Ace ended up getting thrown overboard. And that can only mean one thing." 

The pirate paused for dramatic effect and Marco saw a couple of the members from the second division cringe. Marco braced himself for the pirate to continue. The last thing he wanted to become involved in was the power-struggle between two divisions. 

"It means that whatever happened has to be super embarasing!" Marco was dumbstruck as the pirates smile warped into a mischievous grin and groans were heard from around the room. One of the 2nd division members who had been training on deck earlier called out from across the room. 

" Come on Dev. You can't just ask the marines!" 

"Everything is fair in love and war Billie, and I would absolutely love to hear what dumb shit you got yourself stuck in." A discourse of laughter and arguments broke out as the two different divisions tried to protect their honour. As the arguments, accusations and insults began to fly, Marco burst out laughing. By the time he got his laugh under control the room were once again focused on him. A mischievous smirk that sent a shiver down the back of the second division spread across the marine’s face as Marco addressed Devon.

“So what did the second division tell you?”

When Ace finally did return with a pile of dry clothes in approximately Marco’s size he opened the doors to the mess hall only to be met by the sight of Marco sitting at a table, surrounded by a group of hysterically laughing 4th division members. And as all eyes turned toward Ace, he felt a creeping sense of dread at the smirk that adorned the marines face. Silence filled the room for a brief second before one of the fourth division chefs, Devon or something like that, called out.

“So Ace. A tasty looking seaking?” 

And as the room erupted into laughter, Ace could only glare at the smirking Marine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The daily life of a pirate in the New World is unpredictable, exhausting and dangerous. Good thing Marco is not a pirate, right?
> 
> ...right?


	4. Traitor

Marines tended to underestimate Ace. They saw his fiery fists and assumed he was a reckless rookie who only ever paid attention to a good fight while he was oblivious to anything else. What they didn’t know was that Ace had spent most of his younger days reading the faces and body language of bandits and ruffians. He had spent years asking same question only to see how different people reacted before beating them up.

In other words, Ace was not as oblivious to what others thought and felt as he seemed. While Marco acted casual and confident, Ace hadn’t failed to notice how the marine avoided turning his back to a pirate or how he quickly scanned every room before he entered. It reminded Ace of how he had acted himself the first few weeks on the Moby Dick. 

After Ace had woken up on the Moby Dick for the first time he had spent a long time constantly on edge. He had expected a knife in his back or a bullet in his brain around every corner. To be fair, he had been actively trying to murder the captain after he arrived. It would have been perfectly reasonable for one of the commanders to get enough and simply toss him overboard. 

It was Ace’s need for food and the forced interactions with Thatch that it brought that finally had knocked some sense into him. Thatch had tracked down where he was hiding and shoved food in his face more than once before Ace had finally broke and started talking to him. After he finally began talking to Thatch, it had quickly developed a never ending stream of new introductions and questions as the rest of the crew approach him.

So when Ace watched Marco laugh and eat with the fourth and second division, he felt a smile tug on his lips. While he didn’t want to admit it, Ace really enjoyed the time he had spent with the man. He was an asshole yes, and he teased Ace mercilessly during their training sessions, but it wasn’t malicious. It was the same joking and well meaning teasing that Ace did with his brothers, both those on the crew and his other brothers. 

Honestly, Ace wouldn’t object if Marco decided he wanted to join the crew, and judging by the laughter and smiles on the his brother’s faces, they wouldn’t object either. But then again, Marco probably wouldn’t budge. While he was grinning and laughing, Ace still saw the tension in the marine’s shoulders. His eyes regularly scanned the room, keeping a close eye of anything that moved close to him, and Ace could practically feel the exhaustion radiating of him.

Ace played along, pretending to pout at the jokes about “tasty seakings” as he extracted Marco from the group. A couple of the pirates complained, but Marco practically jumped at the opportunity to retreat and get some rest. Ace noted how Marco moved with calculated casualness and feigned comfort as he left the room, never leaving his back open to an attack while appearing as if he wasn’t worried at all. 

As the pair left the dining hall and he closed the door behind them, Ace watched from the corner of his eye as ho Marco let out a deep breath and almost deflated before he quickly pulled himself back together and hid his exhaustion behind a mask of boredom. Ace was reminded of just how exhausting it was to constantly stay on guard when surrounded by what you presumed to be enemies.

They didn’t speak much as Ace lead Marco to a small room down by the food-stores deep in the hull. Ace let his eyes take in Marco’s condition in what he hoped was a subtle look. The marine was still damp from the storm and his arms were covered in bruises from the hail. His blond hair was tangled like a bird’s nest and dark bags were beginning to form under his eyes. Ace probably didn’t look any better. As the pair reached their destination, Ace pushed open the door to the small room.

“Sorry for the mess.” Ace said placing the bundle of dry clothes down on the empty crates against the wall of the small room. “The room is mostly used for storage, but the bed should still work." Ace watched as Marco scanned the room before entering. Ace didn't doubt for a second that the marine used haki to double check that there were no enemies hidden in the crates. 

"I am pretty sure I could sleep anywhere at this point, but I appreciate the effort. Thank you Ace." Marco yawned as he made his way across the room to carefully test the bed beneath his hand. Ace took that as his cue and turned to leave, but as he was about to close the door behind him he was interrupted.

“Ace? Could you do me a favour?” Turning back to face Marco, Ace raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Don’t wake me before dinner."

When Marco slowly came into consciousness, he simultaneously felt like he had slept for years, and like he could sleep for another year. Prying his eyes open Marco was met with the dark exterior of the storage room. While a higher ranking marine could have frowned at the lack of windows, lights or a desk, Marco had no such luxuries. He usually slept in a hammock in the same room as the rest of the crew. Having a bed and privacy was already far more luxurious than he was used to. 

The change of clothes Ace had gathered yesterday were still folded on a crate by the door. Inspecting them, Marco decided the hassle of pulling a shirt over the handcuffs around his wrists would be more of a hassle than it was worth. Abandoning any notion of proper dress-code, Marco decided to forego the shirt entirely as he put on the pink jacket provided. 

Picking up the provided yellow and blue Hawaiian shorts, Marco briefly wondered who in their right mind would wear such a garish piece of clothing. But then again, he was pretty sure none of the pirates aboard these ships were in their right mind. Discarding the offending pants, Marco ended up just tying a blue sash around the waist of his slightly torn uniform pants, before set out in search of breakfast. He would need to inspect the sails to make sure they didn't sustain damage in the hailstorm. If a small tear in the fabric went unnoticed until the next strong winds hit, it could tear and become a large rift that delayed their progress even further. 

Marco didn't see many pirates as he made his way towards deck. He suspected he had woken up at sunrise despite his wish to sleep until dinner. If that was the case then the pirates were most likely still asleep. This theory was proven true as the marine pushed open the doors that lead to deck and was briefly blinded by the sun peeking over the horizon. 

The deck was filled with eating pirates that looked just about how well Marco felt. Messy hair, heavy bags under the eyes and badly concealed yawns decorated the normally energetic pirates. Yet despite the obvious exhaustion, Marco could still hear the jovial laughter and well-meaning teasing from the pirates as they enjoyed their breakfast. Feeling his stomach growl, Marco made his way towards the table where a large platter of eggs and sandwiches was situated and began to get himself a serving.

With an egg, two sandwiches and a steaming mug of the strongest coffee available, Marco made his way to an empty table towards the railing from which he could see the other two ships. The 16th division’s sail looked to have been hit pretty bad in the storm as a big gash decorated the sail, and the 4th and 5th divisions were sailing with their own sails at half-mast to keep pace. The cold winds had subsides and been replaced with a warm breeze, signifying their approach towards either a spring- or a summer-island. The winds were less than ideal for sailing, but if the pirates took proper advantage of them in addition to the currents they should be able to keep their schedule. At least that is what Marco speculated as he longed for a map and a logpose to verify his theories.

“Marco? What are you doing up at this hour? Weren’t up till’ the storm ended?” Turning to look at the approaching 5th division commander, Marco gave a small shrug.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Vistas jovial laughter brought a small smile to Marco’s lips despite how it made his head ring. “How’s the ships? Are we keeping schedule?” Vista seemed slightly surprised as he sat down across form Marco who had turned back to study the other two ships. 

“You sound more like a commander than Ace does.” The pirate muttered with a small chuckle. Marco briefly wanted to argue that he was in fact not a pirate, but decided against it as Vista continued on.

“16th division lost their sail to a particularly sharp shower of hail-spikes. The spare canvas wasn’t enough to patch up the entire sail, but Izo has worked his magic with what they had.” Marco took a sip from his coffee as Vista explained. If the 5th division commander had time to sit around and chat during breakfast then it was probably true that they got through the storm without any major casualties. Few things were worse than losing someone in a storm, especially when it was your responsibility to predict and avoid said whether.

“You know, you are quite skilled at hiding your concern for the crew.” Choking on his coffee, Marco began coughing, clearing his throat in a futile attempt to argue against the pirate only for Vista to keep talking. “But I appreciate it nonetheless. Skilled sailors are easy to come across and easy to train, but you can’t train a good man.”

Still choking on his own drink, Marco rasped out a response, “I’m simply concerned with how quick we can reach the destination and I get to leave”, but the protest sounded like a weak excuse even to himself, and Vista’s smile told him that the pirate was not convinced.

“If that’s the case Mr. Marine, then you will be happy to know that the storm put us ahead of schedule and we should be arriving at sunrise tomorrow.” And with that the commander got back to his feet and walked away back towards another table of pirates, leaving Marco to cough and sputter by the railing.

What the hell was he doing? He was a captive on an enemy vessel, yet when Vista called him out on it Marco couldn’t deny that he was relieved that the pirates were ok. Hell, his loyalty to the Marines had already been questioned when Red-hair had been pestering him. Staying as a guest on a Whitebeard pirate ship and actively helping them not just survive but stay safe and on schedule was the last thing he should be doing.

Frowning, Marco finished his coffee and left his half-eaten meal behind. Over-analysing his own actions and motivations wouldn’t help the situation, so Marco decided that the best thing he could do was distract himself with work. Telling himself that if he kept pretending to care he would be able to gain more information about the crew for his rapport back to his superiors, Marco decided to try to gain access to the navigator’s equipment by making good on his promise to the young navigator and show him how to predict and avoid New World storms.

All in order to gather information for the marines, of course. Not because Marco saw himself in the young navigator trying to navigate a sea that was way too wild for him and wanted to help the kid.

Not at all.

The 4th division's navigators were few in numbers but well equipped and skilled in their craft. The old Hank and his two young apprentices, Ben and Luke were the only navigators left after the previous navigator retired a few months ago with his wife on Water 7. While Ben and Luke were skilled enough to sail the seas of paradise, they lacked the finesse necessary to survive in the New World without their mentor.

While Hank was a stubborn and rude old man, Marco couldn’t deny that he was skilled in his trade. Even after the storm had blown them of course and lasted for hours, he was still able to pinpoint the ship’s location on a map in a matter of minutes, and Marco was almost awestruck by the efficient course they had set for the island of Vusa where they would meet with the 1st and 3rd divisions.

While the old navigator was a lot quicker with a map than Marco was, Marco had the edge when it came to reading the weather. A small voice in the back of Marco’s head said that that was a result of learning how to navigate by flying from one ship to the next, but he decided against revealing that information to the pirates. The less they knew about him and his abilities, the easier it would make his escape.

Marco spent hours teaching the navigators about cloud patterns and visual cues that signified a current changing. The young men absorbed the information like sponges and took extensive notes. In exchange, Hank offered to show Marco how to more efficiently pinpoint their location on different kinds of maps even with nothing more than the sun as a reference point.

As they examined the numerous maps, Marco managed to pinpoint their location and began to plan his course. If all things went well he would be dropped off at Vusa the next day. The small Island was an active volcano with a village famous for their crops and welcoming attitude towards pirates. While they were not allied with a Yonko, they offered fair prices for supplies and as long as you didn’t try to rob them they would give you what you paid for. That meant that there were few marine vessels ever docked at the harbour. 

Using the warm updraft from the volcano, Marco should be able to carry enough supplies with him to last until he reached Punk Hazard where he could resupply. Or, if the winds were in his favour he could probably glide all the way to the red line and resupply outside Mariejois and glide back down to Marineford.

When Izo came to retrieve them for dinner he opened the door to the navigation room only to be met by all four of the navigators bent over a map discussing whether it would be safer to cross the calm belt or try to sail up reverse mountain in reverse if a crew ever wanted to leave the grand line. With an exasperated sigh Izo had ordered the four of them to get up on deck as Thatch was refusing to serve the dinner before everyone not currently sleeping was present.

Smiling sheepishly the four navigators followed Izo back to deck where almost the entire crew were seated and engaged in loud conversations. Hank gave Marco a nod before he slipped away toward a table along with Ben, but Luke, the same kid that had joined him for dinner last night followed Marco and Izo to the table where Ace, Vista, Teach and a few other pirates were seated.

Izo barely had time to shove them down around the table before Thatch and the other chefs were springing into action, bringing out big platters of various meats and vegetables along with bottles of various wines and rums. The appearance of food brought a lull in the many conversations as the pirates all dug into the food. Guarding his own plate closely, Marco kept a suspicious eye on Ace as the younger man were among the first ones to clean his plate and dig in for seconds.

By the time Thatch was done serving the others and joined them at the table, the only remaining food was a carefully guarded plate Izo had saved him from Ace’s ravenous appetite. Chuckling slightly as Ace pouted at Izo, Marco pushed his own half-finished plate towards the kid as he kept chatting with Luke about the different types of clouds they could see in the sky and what that could mean.

“Teaching the kids about haki and sailing, taking charge when navigating a storm, feeding Ace… Are you sure you’re not the new second division commander Marco?” Izo asked with a grin and a laugh. The rest of the pirates joined in the laugh and Marco felt his shoulders tense as he avoided direct eye contact and let out a short and stiff laugh.

“I’m not a pirate.” The laughter died down and the air seemed somewhat tense around him as Marco continued. “I don’t think your captain would approve of a marine taking a commander position anyways.” Marco tried to make it sound casual, but the meaningful glances between the commanders that seemed to speak a thousand words in a second were unnerving him slightly. A moment of tense silence followed as the pirates all communicated nonverbally before Ace spoke up.

“Pop’s wouldn’t mind.” The complete and utter sincerity in the statement left Marco without a reply or rebuttal. “Pop’s doesn’t care about who you are or what you have done in the past. As long as you don’t put his family in danger you are welcome to join.” Ace’s voice was so certain and it carried a hint of hope as he spoke. Marco almost felt bad that he couldn’t stay.

“I’m not a pirate Ace. I am a marine and I intend to stay that way.” Marco tried not to let his disappointment seep into his words. He hid behind his bored mask like he always did, but this seemed to anger the pirate.

“Come on Marco, why would you want to return to those assholes?!” Marco’s brows furrowed at the insult and the frustrated tone to Ace’s voice.

“Because “those assholes” do their best every day to protect innocent civilians from pirates and criminals.” Marco felt anger creeping up on him, but he kept in in check. Starting a fight with Ace would not bring anything good. It was clear that Ace was getting angry as well, judging from the way his fist clenched around his fork

“Are you trying to tell me that asshole you call a captain is keeping the people safe from criminals like us?” Ace’s voice had raised a little louder. Marco desperately wanted to avoid another incident like the previous dinner he ate on the ship, but it was becoming more and more tempting to knock Fire fist down a peg as the pirates on the surrounding tables fell silent.

“Ace, don’t be rude. You don’t kno-” Izo tried to reason as Thatch made a placating motion towards the younger pirate, only for Ace to interrupt.

“That asshole punched Marco in the face because Marco saved the ship from a knock up stream!” And with that all eyes were on Marco, who were staring intensely at the spot on the table where his plate had been earlier. When he spoke, Marco’s voice had a cold edge to it.

“Drop it Ace.” Cold fury burned in Marco’s veins as he tried not to say something he would regret. “I swore an oath when I became a marine to protect those too weak to protect themselves.” Before Ace managed to respond, Vista spoke up.

“A pirate can still protect the weak.” Marco sent the swordsman a death-glare as the man smiled knowingly at him.

“I am not, a pirate.” Gritting his teeth, Marco put emphasis on the “not” as he tried and failed to keep the anger out of his voice. He had known these men for no more than a few days, yet they decided they knew both him and what he wanted.

“Regardless if you are a pirate or not, the captain hitting you for doing your job as a navigator isn’t ok.” The quiet and shy voice of Luke spoke up from beside him and Marco fell silent. He didn’t need his loyalty questioned by pirates of all people. While he didn’t like Captain Shu personally, Marco still cared for the marine's cause. They were protecting the small and weak people, and if he had to put up with a few assholes to do that then it was a small price to pay.

“He’s right you know.” Thatch spoke up with a warm and caring voice. “If anyone on this crew treated their brothers like that they would be punished severely.” Concern seemed to lace the pirate’s voice and Marco nearly groaned with frustration.

“Well I am not a part of this crew, so drop it.” There was no longer anything hidden about the anger in his voice. He didn’t shout, but the cold edge to his words didn’t need volume to cut. He was done with this conversation and just wanted everyone to drop it. For a second he almost thought they did, until Fire fist spoke up again.

“You could be.” The pirate spoke in a tone almost similar to Marco’s own, but less angry and more determined. “A part of the crew that is. ”

“I am not a traitor.” Marco gritted out between his teeth before he could think. He was getting dangerously close to the edge and he needed to calm down. Getting to his feet Marco turned to leave only to come face to face with Ace who also jumped to his feet.

“You could be! The only difference between you and a traitor is-“ The next moments passed by in a blur. One moment Ace was speaking, the next moment Marco’s knuckles hurt and Ace fell backwards as he cradled his bleeding nose.

Cold fury was burning in his veins as Marco glanced back to the now silent table. Izo’s finger rested on the the trigger of his gun, but he made no move to interrupt the fight. Turning his back to the table, Marco stormed back below deck. He didn’t think about where his feet were carrying him, distracted by his own fury and the feeling of countless eyes following him. It was not until he stopped outside the small storeroom he had slept in that he realised where he had been walking.

Slamming the door closed behind him as he entered, Marco wanted nothing more than to go back out there and beat the shit out of Fire fist. Marco had never been a traitor. He would never be one. He had sworn an oath to use his power and authority as a Marine to help and protect the weak. Yet the quiet voice in the back of his mind kept whispering questions. Was he really helping if he sailed with an asshole like Shu? Was he doing his best to protect the people when he was stuck in an office doing paperwork and mapping supply lines for the new marine bases, when he could be out there stopping pirates himself. Was he really doing his best to prevent pirates from preying on the weak when he hunted down peaceful pirates as they docked in towns?

Barely keeping himself from breaking one of the boxes in the room, Marco took a deep breath to calm down. Losing your temper never lead to anything good, and doubting his own motivations wouldn't help either. He took another breath as he felt the ache in the knuckles on his right hand. Pain was pulsing from his middle finger, and Marco cursed himself for hurting his own hands when he had no way of healing. He needed every advantage he could get if he was going to survive as a prisoner on a pirate ship. And despite what the pirates told him, the harsh reality was that he was a prisoner. 

Looking down at the cuffs around his wrists Marco considered his options. The locks would be easy enough to pick but it would take time, especially considering he had to pick the lock on the left cuff with a possibly broken finger and with no proper lockpick. If he started now, he could probably get the cuffs off before anyone came looking for him. 

If what Ace said was true, and Whitebeard would want him on his crew, then Marco needed to leave before they arrived at Vusa and met the man. Chained and trapped was not the condition Marco wanted to be in when he was forced to tell Edward Newgate to fuck off. He could always just accept a part in the crew and leave as soon as his hands were freed from the seastone. 

Marco felt himself cringe at the idea. He would not join the pirates only to betray them. But if Vista’s schedule was correct that left him less than 12 hours to get away. And being realistic, Marco knew he had far less than 12 hours. He could not make his escape during the light of day, and he would have to be a few hours away by sunrise to make sure he was not followed. That left a few hours in the middle of the night where he had to get out of his cuffs and slip away unseen by the night watch.

A big, glowing bird made out of blue fire was not the most stealthy creature during a dark night. Stealing a lifeboat and drifting away on one of the many currents before activating his powers and flying off when he was out of sight would be a far better option. But no matter what his plan would be, the first step would be getting out off the handcuffs without anyone noticing. 

A knock on the door caused Marco to flinch and spin around to face the door. Cursing himself for lowering his guard in enemy territory he listened for the one who had knocked. He hadn’t even noticed anyone approaching. Taking deep breaths, Marco forced his shaking hands to stop. He wasn’t sure if it was rage, frustration or something else that made them shake, but he didn’t have time to dissect that right now.

“Marco? I’m leaving your dinner out here.” Thatch’s voice was smooth and calm, as if he was speaking to a cornered animal. Marco would have taken offence if it didn’t help calm his frazzled nerves. The sounds of plated being put down on the floor reached Marco’s ears, but he didn’t hear the retreating footsteps.

“You barely ate anything before you gave your plate to Ace. And nobody starves on my ship.” When Marco remained silent, Thatch seemed to hesitate for a moment before he continued in a tone that Marco found hard to interpret. 

"Just for your information, so that you don’t sit down here and worry that we are going to kill you over hitting a commander or something," Marco almost winced at hearing the pirate so casually describe his lack of control. If he had so much as thought about rising a hand against Captain Shu he would be demoted for sure. And that would be the best case scenario.

"Izo is busy yelling at Ace for being a dick and ruining dinner. While I don't approve of hitting my brothers, Ace was asking for it.” The pirate did a good job of hiding it, but Marco heard the concealed emotion behind the casual words. He couldn’t place exactly what the emotion was, but it sounded like something close to worry. When Marco still didn’t reply the silence stretched for an uncomfortable long minute before the pirate cleared his throat.

“So… yeah. I’ll see you in the morning when we reach port.” The pirate trailed off and Marco heard the retreating steps as he left. Waiting another minute after he no longer heard the steps, Marco finally allowed himself to take a deep breath. There was a good chance someone might check on him during the night to make sure Marco were still there. If that was the case then he needed to keep the cuffs on until then to avoid anyone noticing that he was planning an escape.

Slowly opening the door, Marco peered into the now empty hallway. A small tray with a plate of dinner and a mug of rum waited besides the door. Picking it up, Marco retreated back into the small storage room. 

He had a lot to do.

Marco crept up the hallway silently yet quickly. The log pose he had stolen from the navigation room sat heavily in his pocket alongside the makeshift lock pick he had fashioned out of a piece of wire. The cuffs had proved more difficult to remove than expected, so by the time the night watch had decided to double check their course, Marco had been forced to flee the navigation room with one set of cuffs still wrapped around his right wrist to remain hidden.

Listening closely for approaching steps, the marine made his way towards the deck. It was a few hours past midnight, and with the night watch checking the course below deck Marco would have free reign of the deck. As long as he kept out of sight from the watchers on the other ships he should be able to slip away on a lifeboat without anyone raising the alarm.

Carefully opening the doors to the deck Marco crept through them. The full moon shone in the clear skies as it cast deep shadows across deck. Clinging to the deepest shadows, Marco moved swiftly towards the lifeboats at the back of the ship. However as he got closer to the back of the ship, Marco froze. He saw the silhouette of a man leaning against the railing.

The familiar pompadour was easily identifiable even in the dim moonlight as Thatch stood by the railing and looked out over the sea. Briefly Marco considered knocking him out, but he quickly discarded the idea. Despite the jovial attitude, this man was a Whitebeard pirate, and a commander. Marco knew he wouldn’t be able to take him out silently, especially when still chained. 

Considering his options, Marco decided that if he couldn’t sneak away quietly in a boat, the best course of action would be to remove the seastone and fly off against the wind. It would be harder to follow him that way, and he could change directions a lot quicker than 3 big ships. Marco was about to retreat and start working on the handcuff as Thatch sighed heavily and sagged against the railings. The pirate looked conflicted where he stood, and Marco felt something twist in his stomach at the normally jovial man looking so solemn.

“Are you alright?” Marco surprised himself with the question as he stepped out of the deepest shadows and approached the pirate. Thatch turned to look at him and Marco caught a glimpse of a box in his hands. It was the same box he had shown him earlier. The one that held the devilsfruit.

“I figured you’d sneak away, so I wanted to catch you before you left.” Thatch let a small smile creep across his face when Marco tensed at the word “catch”. Turning back to look at the horizon the pirate continued. “Not like that, I just want to talk.” Marco carefully stepped closer to the railing. He kept a safe distance between himself and the pirate, but he somehow knew it wasn’t really necessary. The pair stood in quietly besides each other for a moment before Thatch broke the silence.

“I’m going to eat the fruit.” Thatch’s determined eyes stared at the box as he quietly spoke. “The second division is going to need a new ship, so they will be in need of an escort back to Water 7. I’m going to ask Pops if the 4th division can use the opportunity to remain in Paradise for some time I learn how to use it.” Marco blinked a couple times in surprise.

“You took my advice?” He didn’t mean to say it out loud, and he certainly didn't mean to sound so surprised, but Thatch snorted and turned to meet Marco’s confused eyes.

“Yeah well, you seemed to know what you were talking about, and you seemed really passionate about it.” Marco sheepishly turned away from the pirates gaze and pretended to find something interesting to look at in the horizon. He really hadn’t been too good at keeping his emotions under control these last 24 hours… 

“Sorry about that. I shouldn’t-” Marco’s sheepish apology was cut off was interrupted by Thatch waving his hand towards him in a dismissive manner. “Don’t apologize for caring. To be captured by pirates can’t possibly be a relaxing environment.” The pirate said before a small smirk twisted his lips. “You are handling it a lot better than Ace did.”

Thatch chuckled quietly for a few seconds and Marco felt oddly safe besides the pirate. He knew that logically they were enemies. But standing there at the railing, watching the moon shine on the sea as it stretched endlessly ahead of them, Marco felt oddly calm. "Trust" his mind supplied helpfully. He trusted Thatch. Steeling himself, Marco took a deep breath.

“I was in the new world when I ate my fruit.” The words came to him surprisingly easy. He hadn’t told anyone in years. “A member of the crew decided I would fetch a pretty sum if I was sold off to a pirate crew. But when the pirates arrived they didn’t want to pay.” Looking out over the sea, Marco saw the waves of that night. He saw the merciless storm that had crippled the ship and hid the approaching pirates.

“My abilities allowed me to escape, so I escaped in search for help. By the time I returned with a Marine vessel, half the crew had already been killed.” Marco felt his throat constrict as he remembered the wreckage. The ship was burned to the ground as lifeboats drifted around the scorched wreckage of what had been their home and the storm raged. The pirates had killed half of them and left the other half to starve, drown or freeze to death as they drifter thought the storm.

“The Marines offered the rest of the crew a ride back to a safe port, and when what remained of my crew left without me the same marines offered me a way to help others.” Marco’s hands were clenched around the railing, but he held his head high and eyes dry. He had cried more than enough tears for them in the past. The sensation of a hand on his shoulder brought Marco back to the empty sea in front of him. Looking towards Thatch Marco met the pirates sad eyes.

“No wonder Ace got to you with the traitor talk then.” Marco chuckled sadly before looking up at the moon. “He managed to hit the nail on the head without even trying. Captain Shu has been trying to make me snap for months to no avail, yet Ace makes me beat him up every time we eat at the same table.” Thatch cleared his throat awkwardly

“Yeah, about that. That's what I wanted to talk to you about.” Marco frowned dreading where the conversation was heading, but Thatch kept talking “I’m not going to ask you to betray the marines or join us or anything like that. Just… please listen.” Marco gave no reply, but he didn’t immediately tell the pirate to drop it so Thatch gave a sigh and kept talking. 

“If you ever end up in a situation where you are not treated right, be it by marines or pirates or whatever else sails this crazy sea, then come to us for help.” Marco was about to start protesting, but the pirate grabbed his hand and shoved a piece of paper into it.

“I’m trusting you to keep this private, I wouldn’t want the entirety of the Marines tailing us. But if you ever need help, you know where to find Pops, and he knows where to find me.” Thatch let go of his hand and Marco looked down at the small Vivre card. Shoving it into his pocket, Marco took a deep breath.

“Listen, I get that you don’t trust most marines, and Ace hasn’t exactly been the best about describing my crew as anything but assholes but I’m not in need of saving.” Turning back to look the the horizon, Marco failed to notice the presence that crept along the shadows behind them. “If I ever did get in trouble, I will perfectly capable of protecting-” 

All the air left Marco’s lungs as something slammed into his back. A pained grunt escaped him as pain exploded from the impact. Two hands reached up to steady him as the world briefly faded to be replaced by the pain and shock, but just as suddenly as they arrived they were ripped away and Marco was shoved to the ground. The knife was brutally yanked from his back and everything felt far away and fuzzy.

Trying to gather his fractured thoughts, Marco got his elbows beneath him and pushed himself up a few inches. His lungs burned and he could feel blood coating his back. Panic flooded his senses, yet he couldn’t do anything. It was as if his body refused to listen to the commands his mind was screaming.

Drawing a shallow breath, Marco was brought back to reality as a choked scream rung out across deck. Thatch fell to the floor in front of Marco with a long, serrated dagger stuck no more than an inch from his heart as the attacker frantically made a grab for the box. As the huge man ripped the box opened and grabbed the fruit, Marco finally recognised the wide grin. The big, friendly smile was warped and cruel as Teach’s cold, gleeful eyes met Marco’s half lidded and unfocused gaze. Without breaking eye contact, the man ripped the dagger out of Thatch’s chest and dropped it to the floor, leaving the wound to bleed out as he turned and ran for the lifeboats.

Desperately trying to push himself up, Marco coughed wetly as blood spattered across the deck below him. The sound of a lifeboat dropping into the water echoed as Marco got to his knees. Reaching out he grabbed the dagger with one hand as he used the other to pull himself to his feet using the railing to steady himself. He could barely make out the dark lifeboat as Teach rowed towards one of the many currents that would carry him away. He was not rowing in a random direction. This was planned. Marco knew that the currents he was headed for would take him far away. It was the same current Marco planned to drift away on.

Another wet cough wracked his body and he raised the hand clutching the dagger to catch the blood spatter that escaped his lungs. It glistened in the moonlight and Marco stared at it as if transfixed. Blood was a bad sign. This was bad. A weak gurgling groan escaped Thatch’s body and Marco’s unfocused eyes snapped to it. He had to stop the bleeding.

Taking an unsteady step towards the body, Marco was about to bend down to put pressure on the wound, but the sound of doors slamming open caused his eyes to snap forwards towards the door that led below deck. For a brief moment, Marco’s eyes met the worried and confused eyes of Ace as he rushed up on deck with Vista and a few others pirates Marco didn’t recognise right behind him.

Ace’s eyes widened in shock before they began burning with what Marco could only describe as burning rage directed at him. That was when Marco realised what this looked like. He was standing over the bleeding body of Ace’s brother with a hand covered in blood and clutching a dagger.

Oh.

Oh shit.

Marco had no chance of dodging the burning fist that slammed into his stomach and sent him crashing into one of the tables that littered the deck. Choking on the air that was leaving his lungs, Marco saw Ace crouch over his dying brother, pressing a flaming hand onto the wound and screaming for a medic.

Marco didn’t need haki to sense the murderous intent that radiated off Vista as the commander launched himself towards the downed Marine. Years of training forced Marco to react. There was no way he could talk them down at this point. He wouldn’t be given the opportunity to explain. He needed to get out. As Vista’s sword swung towards his neck, Marco raised his forearm to block the incoming blow. Marco let out a cry as the cold steel tore through his arm, but it didn’t stop. Vista’s rage drove the blade through his arm and deep into Marco’s neck before it was roughly yanked back.

Marco’s severed right arm fell to the deck and the sound of the seastone handcuffs hitting the wood echoed across deck as Vista prepared to strike again only to be blinded by the bright blue flames that exploded from the marine. Marco felt the warm tingling of his flames envelope him as his strength returned and his limb regrew. Stumbling a few steps backwards across the wreckage of the table he had crashed into, Marco surveyed the mess he was in. Firefist and a few others were huddled around Thatch, Vista was readying to strike again as more pirates kept flooding out of the doors by the second. 

The blue inferno around him grew as Marco transformed into his Phoenix form and launched himself into the skies. A stealthy escape was a lost cause, so his only option was speed. Flexing his feathers to catch the winds, Marco struggled to gain altitude. A bullet pierced his neck from the direction of the 16th division’s ship, and Marco felt it sting way more than a normal bullet would. Glancing in the direction of the shooter, Marco caught a glimpse of a kimono as another haki-coated bullet slammed into his neck and he flinched. Finally catching one of the many winds of the new world Marco let it carry him up and away from the screams on the deck below him and towards the Island of Vusa.

He just hoped he could make it there and gather supplies before Captain Whitebeard arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be starting an intense and busy part of my education so I (probably) won't be updating in the next 5-10 weeks.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and don't be scared to call out my grammatical errors in the comments so that i can clear them up.


	5. Escaping and eavesdropping

Marco let out an undignified squeak as he crashed through the treetops. He barely managed to avoid landing on his face as he pulled up and slammed into the ground with a loud thud. As the blue flames flickered around him, Marco shifted back into a human and pushed himself to his feet. His ribs briefly protested after the heavy impact, but Marco felt them bend back into place and mend.

The flight from the pirate fleet to Vusa had been exhausting with the winds fighting against him every step of the way. A part of him was happy for them as they would delay his pursuers and buy him more time to gather supplies before he kept fleeing, but there was also the whispers of concern in the back of his mind that said that Thatch needed help quickly. 

Shaking his head Marco pushed the concern from his mind and started fighting his way through the dense jungle. He shouldn’t be worried about his captors wellbeing. He shouldn’t be worried about pirates at all. Yet the image of Thatch bleeding out besides him had almost been distracting enough for Marco to not notice the huge ships docked in the village on the eastern side of the island. It had only been the silhouette of a ship against of the rising sun that alerted Marco to just how much trouble he was in before he had frantically dove for cover.

The only village on Vusa was made up from a fleet of rafts that circled the active volcano to avoid the flowing lava. It was pure, dumb luck that lead the village to be anchored in the east where the rising sun drew Marcos eyes to it. At first he had been confused as to why a whale would be swimming quietly at the surface in the middle of a village. Then he had seen the sail. Marco had immediately forced all his flames to die out as he dove for the cover of the jungle below him.

There was only one ship in the new world in the shape of a great white whale, and it was the flagship of the last person Marco wanted to run into. Edward “Whitebeard” Newgate, Captain of the Whitebeard pirates, rival of the Pirate king, and no doubt an angry and concerned father who wanted to break the neck of the man who was dumb enough to attack his son.

Marco had three options. He could remain hidden in the jungle until the pirates left, but considering the medical attention, ship repairs and resupplying the pirates were in need of they would probably remain docked for a while. Marco considered the second option, to leave the island immediately and fly west. That way he would avoid detection by the pirates and put more distance between himself and the pursuers, but he would be traveling without supplies. 

Food was easy to come by even if he ended up on an uninhabited island, and weapons weren’t a necessity as his talons did just as much damage as a sword, but the bloodied and slashed remnants of the pink jacket Marco wore would not protect him from the cold of a winter island. While the cold couldn’t kill him directly as his powers healed him faster than he could freeze to death, it did make it next to impossible to sleep as his body kept shivering uncontrollably. No sleep would lead to exhaustion. Exhaustion led to mistakes, and in the New World a single mistake could cost you your life. He needed to be prepared to face the cruel and unflinching elements of the New world alone if he wanted to get back to HQ.

That left him only one option. He would have to enter town and get his hands on the essential supplies before his pursuers made it to the island. Whitebeard himself would not have any way of recognising Marco as the one who attacked his son, so as long as he kept his head down and minded his own business it should be a quick supply run. He had made similar supply-runs thousands of times with the marines. It would be fine.

As he made his way through the dense foliage towards the shore Marco took off the blood-soaked jacket and discarded it under a bush. If he wanted to keep a low profile bloodstains would not help him at all. By the time it took Marco to reach the western shore of the island the sun had risen above the horizon and Marco heard the sounds of a village waking. From where he stood on the shore Marco could see that the huge ship that was the Moby Dick was not the only ship docked there. Next to it was two other ships, and while they would dwarf most ships Marco had served on they seemed almost tiny next to the enormous ship that was the Whitebeard pirates’ flagship. It was no doubt the ships of other divisions, but Marco didn’t know the pirates well enough to be able to distinguish witch division they belonged to.

Despite the early morning the small town was buzzing with life. The multiple rafts were connected to the shore and to each other by the small bridges that stretched across the village like a net. Even from the shore Marco could see how thick crowds pressed their way across the bridges as the ruffians that could only be the whitebeard pirates scurried about. Taking a deep breath, Marco began crossing the bridge from the shore to the village.

His thoughts repeated his simple plan like a mantra as Marco let his observation haki flow through him. Get clothes, get food, get out. It really was a simple plan. Doing his best not to stand out, Marco blended in with the crowds as he made his way towards the largest raft. Countless small stalls and vendors lined the many rafts that made up the dock of the village, offering maps, rations, ammo, logposes and clothes of all shapes and sizes.

Marco felt paranoid as the pirates around him rushed to secure medical supplies and materials for ship-repairs. It was hard not to overhear them as they asked the locals if there were any skilled doctors in the village, and Marco felt himself wince at the badly hidden desperation in their voices. While his powers to heal others were greatly limited compared to how much he could heal himself, they would probably be able to help. But that would involve handing himself over to the whitebeard pirates, telling them about the extent of his powers and then ask to be left unchained in the same room as the man he was accused of almost killing. Shaking his head to clear his mind Marco returned to the task at hand. Get a cloak, get food, get out. That was his mission. If he so much as looked in Thatch’s direction he would be burned to a crisp by an angry Ace. The pirates could take care of it themselves. They would be fine. 

Handing most of what little money he had to a vendor, Marco got a dark green cloak and matching boots. Quickly ducking between two vendors he put them on and tied his sandals to his belt. Pulling up the hood, Marco fit right in with the many fishermen and hunters in similar outfits wandering the rafts. 

Stepping to the side where he would not get in anyone’s way, Marco pretended to count his remaining money as he let his Haki reach out to sense the life around him. The fleet's plan had been to arrive at sunrise, but with the chaos of the night, the bad winds and the damage to the 16th division's sails, Ace and the others probably wouldn’t make it in another few hours. However there was no denying the terror that crept up Marco's back as he sensed the by now familiar presence of Fire Fist. Turning to look towards the huge ship, Marco saw a small speeder racing towards it. The small engine on the back of the small boat was fuelled by a blazing fire that licked up Ace's legs as the pirate deftly navigated between the docked ships.

Panic began to coil around Marco's heart. He needed to leave. Entering town had been a mistake. He should have just laid low in the jungle until the pirates left. Cursing himself, Marco turned and took a hurried step to flee only for someone to crash into him. The Fishman that collided with him was running in a full sprint when he hit the marine, and Marco’s much lighter body was sent sprawling in an undignified heap dangerously close to the edge of the raft.

“Shit, you alright?”

Marco needed a moment to gather his thoughts and make his vision stop spinning before he pushed himself up. The rough voice of the fishman and the loud crowd around them did little to help Marco’s ringing ears, but his eyes focussed back on the outstretched hand reaching down to help him. As he grasped the hand, it pulled him to his feet only for the fishman to mutter another curse.

“Sorry! I’ll pay you back later, I’m in a rush.” As the fishman motioned to Marco’s wrist, the marine felt his stomach sink even further at the sight of his broken logpose. Two of the three arrows were shattered and the last one cracked and barely legible where it spun uncontrollably. Before Marco could properly respond a hand patted his shoulder and the fishman continued running down the rafts, dodging between villagers and vendors.

Marco briefly considered just how fucked he truly was, but before he could properly examine his situation his eyes landed on a small satchel on the ground. Picking it up, Marco found that it contained bandages, syringes and various ointments and medicines. The man must have been carrying it when they crashed and accidentally dropped it. But the only ones who would be in such a hurry to collect medical supplies would be…

Sometimes Marco was convinced there was a God, if only because there had to be someone intentionally making his life a mess.

He briefly contemplated just leaving the bag and making a run for it. Thatch would probably be fine, and if he was not fine then he just suffered the fate of a pirate. Anyone who decided to sail the seas to steal and pillage had to be prepared for someone to steal from them... Who was he trying to trick, Marco really didn't want the pirate to die. Looking around, Marco saw a few people who looked more like pirates than the average villager. That was a broad and unreliable description, but Marco was running short on time and he was desperate to get going. Approaching a short brown haired man with a saber in his belt who was currently in the middle of purchasing canvas for a sail, Marco tapped the boy on his shoulder. 

“Pardon me, are you a member of the Whitebeard crew?”

The young man threw Marco a suspicious glare as he reluctantly nodded. As the kid’s hand slowly moved to the saber in his belt Marco raised his hands in surrender.

“Please wait, I don’t want a fight. One of your crewmates just dropped this as he bumped into me and I figured you could bring it to him.” Surprised flashed across the boy’s face before it was quickly replaced with a relieved smile as the kid took the chest from Marco’s hands. 

“Thank you! Hold on a second and I’ll get you some cash for your troubles.” But Marco was already leaving. It was difficult to sense the presence of a single person in such a large and crowded area, but there was no doubt in his mind that it was Ace’s burning presence he had sensed. Marco needed to leave immediately.

Ignoring the sound of the confused kid, Marco moved as quickly as he could without running and drawing unwanted attention to himself. He had almost made it to the next raft when the attack finally came. He had been so concerned with keeping his focus on Ace that when the Saber bit into his shoulder it was it came as a complete surprise. 

Biting off the surprised and pained yelp, Marco didn't manage to suppress his flames in time and they began licking at the wound as Marco met the hard eyes of his attacker. The kid, no the pirate from before saw the blue flames sprout from Marco and his reluctant expression was replaced with cold fury as the saber swung back, this time aimed at Marco's neck. 

Ducking below the blade, Marco swiped the kids feet from under him with a well placed kick and the kid stumbled to catch his footing as Marco placed another kick to the center of his chest, knocking him off his feet. 

Turning to run, Marco didn't even get three steps before the fishman from before launched himself from the water below the small bridge and shattered it as he shot through it. Confused and scared villagers were screaming and scattering, drawing more attention to the fight. Marco could hear the rushing footsteps of approaching pirates and he knew any hope of a stealthy escape was gone. 

Accepting that the stealthy approach had failed, Marco enveloped himself in a blue inferno only to emerge in the shape of a phoenix launching off into the sky. Bullets whizzed past him as he flapped his wings to catch the any of the many winds that could carry him. As soon as he cleared the roofs of the houses on nearby rafts the stinging bite of fire enveloped him with the familiar flames of Fire Fist. 

Momentarily blinded as fire consumed his entire vision, Marco kept rising to escape the pirates. Years of training let him feel the winds as they coiled around him and he caught the updraft from the fire almost effortlessly. As he emerged from the ball of fire Marco had a brief moment to look down and realise just how outnumbered he was before shit really hit the fan. 

One moment he was steadily rising, gliding on his massive wings, the next moment the very air around him seemed to shake. The unexpected sensation left Marco flapping his wings uselessly, trying to catch the wind as he began crashing back towards the raft below him. In his panic Marco managed to catch himself in the last seconds and direct his crash away from the two attackers below him. Slamming into one of the many food-stalls on the raft, Marco felt the entire structure wobble in the ocean as the impact knocked the few remaining villagers to their ground. Leaping to his feet in his human form Marco barely dodged the next attack from saber-kid as his body frantically tried to heal the many fractured bones from the impact. 

When the next attack came from the kid, Marco intentionally allowed it to carve a deep gash in his chest in order to get close enough to slam his knee into the kid's stomach and grab the weapon. Turning to throw the sable at the fishman, Marco was dismayed to see the blade pathetically bounce off the diamond skin of third division commander Jozu as he blocked Marco’s escape. 

Gritting his teeth Marco forced his body to change again. His arms grew long, blue feathers and his feet morphed into deadly talons as he desperately tried to launch into the sky again. In the brief moment he was airborne, Marco saw the shapes of Fire Fist and a man who could only be Newgate rushing towards him. Making brief eye contact with the enormous man, Marco saw him raise an arm only for the world to shake again and send Marco crashing back down. 

However this time Marco was prepared. Using the momentum of the shaking air and, Marco delivered a deadly dive-kick towards Jozu. The raft below him creaked and began to crack, but before Marco could finish the kick the fishman slammed into him, knocking him to the side. 

Rolling to his feet Marco was breathing heavily and panic was creeping ever closer. He needed to get away, but his escape routes were being cut off one by one. He couldn't fly, the bridge was broken, and he certainly couldn't swim. His eyes darted frantically from one pirate to the next, searching for a weak link that he could break through. 

"While I didn't like you, I never took you for a murderer." Jozu's deep voice rumbled above Marco’s panicking thoughts. After the many accusing glares and hateful looks, the thing that finally made Marco snap was the disappointment in Jozu's voice. Like he had somehow expected better from Marco after their one and only previous encounter. Frustration and anger drowned out the growing panic as Marco clenched his talons. Before he could comprehend what he was doing, Marco fell into a battle pose and yelled.

"I didn't do anything! I didn't even want to get involved with you! I didn't steal the god damned devilsfruit and I absolutely did not attack Thatch, yet for some reason I keep getting blamed for all of this shit!" Marco didn't mean to say, much less shout any of that, and as soon as he stopped shouting he wanted nothing more than to take it back. 

Jozu took his eyes of Marco for a split second, meeting the eyes of the sable-kid to Marco's left, but Marco didn't have time to wait for them to finish discussing. Rushing forwards, Jozu was just a fraction of a second too late to stop Marco from rushing past him towards the edge of the raft. Spreading his wings Marco took a leap of faith and leaped from the raft he was on towards the next one. With his wings he managed to gain more height and for a second Marco thought he could make it. 

The tremors in the air once again sent Marco crashing to the ground, only this time he was thrown into the endless ocean below him. For a moment he felt surprised at how warm the sea felt next to the volcano, only for the uncomfortable chilly and numb feeling that came with the loss of his powers to consume him. The force that had knocked him down had also knocked the wind out of his lungs, leaving them screaming for Marco to take a breath as he slowly sank deeper into the dark waters. 

Frantically trying to fight the ocean that drained him, Marco kept sinking deeper. The surface above him was littered with the dark silhouette of rafts and bridges, and the abyss below him grew ever closer. Just as Marco felt himself reaching the end of his breath, a hand grabbed his left arm, tugging at him. The ocean around him became brighter as the hand pulled him back towards the surface. 

The moment his head was pulled above the sea Marco desperately gasped down a deep breath only for a wave to hit and push him back under. The water that tried to make its way into his lungs made him cough and sputter as another arm wrapped around his back and pulled him a bit higher out of the water. 

With blurry eyes and shivering shoulders, Marco finally recognised the fishman that was holding him up as the same fishman that was part of the whitebeard pirates. Marco briefly considered struggling against him, but he dismissed the thought. Along the edge of the raft stood an entire crew worth of pirates, Fire Fist included. While he was not a quitter, Marco knew when to admit that he had lost. 

The fishman swam them over to the edge of the raft where an enormous hand wrapped itself around Marco's arm and pulled him out of the sea before it dropped his shaking body on the raft. Marco didn't know if it was because of the sea, the fear, or the adrenalin slowly leaving his body, but his knees kept shaking as he tried to keep on his feet. The fishman must have noticed his shaking knees as he got up from the water himself, because he approach the drenched marine and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. Marco quickly took an unsteady step away from the fishman as he slapped the offending arm away. 

"Don't touch me." Marco hissed out between gritted teeth. He was fully aware that he was not in a position to give orders, but Marco had always been bad at not giving the orders he thought were necessary. It had gotten him in trouble more than once during his time as a marine. If he had tried to order Captain Shu around like this he would no doubt be punished severely. But Whitebeard would probably kill him regardless of what he said, so what did it matter? 

Silence stretched between the pirates as they all seemed to do that infuriating thing where they communicated with their eyes. Marco's eyes met Ace's dark ones and the burning fury had calmed down somewhat to glowing embers as he gave Marco a questioning look that the drenched marine couldn't quite decipher. Marco was about to snarl a "What?" to the pirate when the booming voice of Whitebeard himself echoed across the raft. 

"I need to talk to you kid, but we are in a bit of a hurry. How about you sit quietly and wait on my ship until I am sure my son is going to be alright?" While it was phrased like a question, the tone of the captain's voice left no room for objections. Marco however was getting really sick of playing along and making deals with pirates. Poring as much defiance and spite into his reply as possible, Marco answered

"Last time I sat quietly and waited on one of your ships I was almost murdered, twice. I think we both know I'm not going to sit and wait quietly."

At Marco's words multiple pirates turned to murmur to their neighbours in hushed tones as Edward Newgate just sighed heavily and turned to the fishman that still hovered close by Marco's side. 

"You heard him Namur. Lock him up and I'll deal with him later."

Before Marco could connect the name Namur to any of the wanted posters he had seen, the fishman reached out and grabbed the marine's wrists, pinning Marco's hands to his back as a swift kick to the back of his knees sent Marco to the ground. The weak struggle Marco offered was quickly ended as Jozu helped restrain the marine. Just as Marco thought that today couldn't get any worse, a shout called out from the Moby Dick. 

The fourth, fifth and sixteenth division had just arrived, and they needed every available medic on standby. Thatch was in a bad state.

The trip down into the cells of the Moby Dick had not been pleasant. Not only because the fishman, Namur, had decided that Marco was "a danger to himself and others" if he walked by himself, something that lead to a handcuffed Marco being slung over the shark's shoulder. 

But the glares, looks of betrayal, and wordless, desperate stares the pirates threw at him hurt a lot more than loosing an arm did. At one point Jozu had to physically step between Vista and Namur to keep the swordsman from doing anything rash and killing Marco on the deck of the Moby Dick. Marco couldn't say he blamed him too much. When they finally got to the cells, Marco's hands were cuffed behind his back with seastone and his legs clasped in manacles attached to the wall with thick chains. The he was left alone to sit in silence as the pirates returned to wait for news about their brother's recovery. 

Sagging against the wall, Marco sunk to the floor in a corner and made himself take up as little space as possible. Just a few days ago his biggest worry had been running into Shanks and having to tell him to fuck off again. Now he was chained and captured in the hull of the Moby Dick, suspected of murder, and his biggest worry was the survival of a man he had known for barely 48 hours. A pirate no less. 

He hadn't felt this helpless in years. Not since what little remained of his original crew, his family, had abandoned him and he was left alone in the New World. He felt tears burn in the corners of his eyes, but he stubbornly refused to let them fall as he buried his face in his knees. 

He sat like that for what felt like hours, all alone in a small cell in the hull of a pirate ship. Not really paying attention to anything as a whirlwind of emotions filled his head with anger, worry, regret, dissapointment and concern. 

"I guess introductions are in order." It was a point of pride that Marco didn't show just how badly the booming voice startled him when Whitebeard suddenly spoke up. Marco had been so wrapped up in his own mind that he hadn't noticed the enormous man entering the cell. Neither had he noticed the approach of Ace who stood back by the door. 

"I'm Edward Newgate, but most people call me Whitebeard these days. How about you tell me your name?" Unfurling his feet and crossing them on the floor, Marco sat up as straight as he could with his arms chained behind him and poured as much defiance as he could into the unamused look he gave Whitebeard. 

"I'm sure Fire Fist have introduced me already." Marco's sharp tone did nothing to dampen the tiered smile on Newgate's face. Ace deliberately tried to meet Marco's eyes from the doorway, but Marco stubbornly refused to acknowledge him. A soft chuckle rumbled through the small cell as Whitebeard answered. 

"Humour me." 

Marco's frown deepened at the captains lighthearted tone. Silence fell across the cell as Marco met the huge man's eyes defiantly. For close to a minute the only movement in the room was Fire Fist shifting his weight from one leg to the other. When it became clear that Newgate was just as stubborn as rumours suggested, Marco sighed and let his body sag back against the wall behind him. 

"My name is Marco. I am a lieutenant of the marines and a New World navigator." As Marco gave in and played along, Whitebeard took a few steps closer and sat down in front of the chained marine. Marco still had to look upwards to meet his eyes, but he was not going to complain as a sitting Captain Whitebeard was mildly less intimidating than a standing Captain Whitebeard.

"Nice to properly meet you Marco. " the old pirate said in the same deep, calm voice he had been using the entire time. "I would like you to explain what happened last night." 

Marco squinted his eyes suspiciously at the powerful pirate. There was no way Ace and Vista hadn't already told him what they had seen. Whitebeard was infamous for how much he trusted and cared for his men. He called them his sons and treated them like family. There was no way he was going to believe anything Marco said over the stories his sons had told him.

There had to be some kind of secret motive behind the interrogation. Whitebeard was fishing for some information only Marco had, and Marco's inside information to the marines was most likely the only reason he hadn't been killed the moment they caught him. The moment the pirate got the answers he wanted Marco would no longer be of use and would be disposed of. Two could play at that game. 

"I'll offer you a trade. I'll answer one of your question to the best of my abilities for every one of mine you answer."

Whitebeard's lips twitched slightly as his calm smile grew into a small mischievous grin that mirrored Marco's own strained grin. The man's intense eyes seemed to burn into Marco's own as he considered the offer. 

"You drive a hard bargain kid. You have yourself a deal." the pirate finally said with a small laugh before he turned back to the door. "Ace. Leave us to talk in private, and make sure we are not disturbed."

Marco finally turned to get a proper look at Ace. The kid looked miserable. His hair was a tangled mess and he had deep bags under his eyes. He clearly hadn't slept since he found Marco and Thatch that night. Marco almost expected him to argue as Newgate asked him to leave, but Ace nodded and muttered a quiet "yes pops…" before he left and closed the door behind him. 

"Well then Marco, what's your first question?" He should ask about strategically important information. Where do the Whitebeard pirates get their supplies? Who are their newest allies? The various weaknesses of the different commanders. But there was only one question that mattered. 

"How's Thatch?" 

Marco almost winced at the sound of his own voice. He hadn't meant to sound so desperate, or for his voice to break at the pirate’s name. The pleasant smile Whitebeard had been wearing fell away to reveal a tiered frown as the pirate sighed. 

“He’s alive. The poison from the dagger keeps the wound open and bleeding, and the doctors on board have no way of counteracting it.” Marco felt himself go numb at the pirate's words. Of course the dagger would be poisoned. Of fucking course the dagger was poisoned. That piece of shit even had the lifeboat stocked and ready to go. The bastard had it all planned out. 

It was not until the room started shaking slightly that Marco realised he had muttered that last part out loud. Whitebeard's eyes were dark with barely concealed anger and Marco couldn't quite tell if it was the pirate's powers or rage that made his clenched fists vibrate. 

"Who had what all planned out?" 

If Marco was braver, or perhaps suicidal, he would have argued that that technically counted as two questions. But chained and face to face with a furious emperor of the sea, he felt far from brave. Despite how well he hid it there were no denying it. Marco was terrified. 

"Teach from the second division." Marco answered in the same voice he used when he reported upcoming storms to the captain. As he spoke Marco shrank back against the wall and turned his eyes towards the wall behind the pirate. Superiors didn't usually take bad news well, and their anger tended to spill over to the messenger. "He attacked me from behind and I collapsed before he got to Thatch." 

When he was done talking, Marco waited in silence for the pirate to react. When what felt like a minute passed without any signs of the reprimand Marco finally dared to glance over and meet Whitebeard's eyes again. The conflicted look of anger, betrayal and sadness that wracked the old captain's face was painful to look at. The face somehow looked a hundred years older now than it had done a few minutes ago. 

"Why?" 

Countless emotions coated the quiet word. It barely counted as a question, yet it carried so much pain, anguish and betrayal. Opening his mouth to reply, Marco heard a plank creek over by the door and spun his head to face it. When nothing happened he was about to reach out with his Haki only to be interrupted by Whitebeard.

"You might as well come in here and listen properly Ace." 

In that moment Marco was struck by how old Newgate truly was. He had sailed the seas back when Sengoku and Garp just started out. His rivalry with Gold Roger was legendary. Yet as he called out to his eavesdropping son, a kid young enough for Whitebeard to be his grandfather, it became painfully clear just how old the old pirate looked. 

When the door finally opened after a few seconds of hesitation, Ace marched into the small room burning with emotions. When Marco met the kids eyes and saw betrayal and the same rage as he had seen last night. Slamming the door closed behind him, Ace marched up to the bound marine and buried his fists in the cloak as he roughly yanked Marco to his feet. 

"Why?" The feral growl barely resembled a word. "Why the fuck would Teach kill his brother?" A small fire sprouted from Ace’s shoulder as he leaned in close to snarl at Marco. When this close, Marco saw the unshed tears the young pirate was trying to force back as Ace pushed him backwards until his back was flush with the wall. Defiantly meeting his gaze, Marco straightened his own back and stood at his full height. 

"All I know is that after I was literally stabbed in the back, that asshole did what pirates do best and stole Thatch's fruit." Quickly jerking forwards Marco tried to push Ace away from him, but it only served to force the pirate to take a step back. However Ace was quick to push back and slam Marco back against the wall, pressing uncomfortably against his chained hands. If glares could kill, no amount of regenerating fire would have been able to save Marco from Fire fist's anger as he spat out a reply. 

"There is no reason Teach would have-"

"Oh shut up! " Marco barked back at the kid. Loosing your composure never ended well, yet Ace had a special ability to push all of Marco's buttons. "You are pirates! You sail around and steal and betray others to make a living. Why is so hard to believe that a pirate betrayed you!?" Marco realised he had probably said something he shouldn't have said as Ace raised his fist behind him and prepared to strike. Defiantly meeting his eyes, Marco braced himself for the impact. 

"Ace. " 

The disapproving rumble that was Newgate's voice caused Ace to come to a reluctant halt. The young pirate let go of Marco and took a step back before he turned to face his captain. Marco almost felt sorry for Ace. Losing your temper in front of the captain and going against his orders by eavesdropping were grave offences, and the punishment was always proportionate. But there was no immediate punishment. Whitebeard simply put a large hand on his subordinate's shoulder and gave it a squeeze before he turned his attention back to the prisoner. For a brief moment Marco tensed, almost expecting the punishment to fall to him, but then Newgate spoke. 

"Go search Teach's belongings. Find out if anyone have seen him after the attack. I'll inform the others of the suspicion." While he spoke, Whitebeard's eyes were locked on Marco, reading into every twitch and flinch. 

"You and I will continue this later Marco." with those words the huge man rose to his feet, once again towering over Marco as he turned to leave. Pouring all of his fake bravado into one final attempt to free himself from the feeling of being helpless, Marco interrupted the pirates's retreat. 

"You wouldn't be willing to chain my hands in front of me?" It almost sounded like pleading, but as the captain lead his commander out of the room he didn't even bother replying to the question before he closed and locked the cell door behind him. With his hands chained behind his back, feet chained to the floor and surrounded by enemies, Marco came to the realisation that he was well and truly fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how I said "no more updates for like 10 weeks"? 
> 
> I lied.
> 
> I have a surprising amount of time for writing on the one hour train ride to and from where I am getting my education, so here is another update.


	6. Captains and captives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have updated the summary of the fic, but ill give a warning here as well. 
> 
> The fic contains spoilers for the ongoing Wano arc of the manga. 
> 
> If you are not caught up, and you want to remain 100% blind, I would recommend taking your time with the manga and dropping by once you are caught up. I'm sorry if this means you have to wait before you can get back to this fic, but I didn't intend for this fic to grow in the directions it has.

________

Captain Shu had never liked Marco. When the navigator had first been assigned to Shu's ship he had swept in like he owned the place and started making demands and asking questions about maps and equipment and the likes.

Shu had been furious that his talents were wasted playing nanny to unskilled navigators that needed to be taught how to sail the new world. He wanted nothing else but to be rid of them, but if he successfully completed their training he would no doubt be promoted to a base commander in the new world, so he suffered through the insufferable 9 months of training. 

But when faced with the idea of spending months at sea with Marco, the insufferable, stubborn and insolent navigator in charge of the actual training, Shu had nearly thrown the damned bastard overboard.

The lieutenant had started barking orders to his men during the early hours of their first voyage and like any respectable captain Shu had called him out on his behaviour. And the navigator had the balls to tell him "the new world doesn't wait for orders." before he kept rushing around barking at Shu's men. 

The worst part of it all was that the navigator had the skills to back up his words. It was Marco's quick thinking and navigational skills that kept the crew alive for their first month in the new world. As much as Shu wanted to, he couldn't just tie the man to the anchor and be done with him. 

So the pair lived together on a ship, surrounded by the most dangerous and unpredictable sea in the world, training the new navigators until Marco could finally sleep through an entire night without regularly having to check in on the navigators during the night shift. 

After months and months of hard work and tribulations, Marco was finally rendered obsolete by the new navigators, and Shu was ready to get rid of the pest once and for all. Captain Shu had set the course for the G-1 base back by the red line. He was going to get rid of Marco, get his promotion, and finally get the respect he deserved. But when the captain returned to base to be evaluated by his superiors, Marco once again ruined everything. 

They had done a good job. Hell, a great job even. The new navigators Marco had trained were more skilled than their counterparts from other training ships. So skilled that Sengoku had given them a new set of trainees and kicked them back to sea despite Shu's many protests. 

When it finally became clear that Shu would be stuck with Marco for a long time he began punishing every imagined transgression in order to bend the lieutenant to his will. Yet Marco kept defying him. The navigator still gave some orders, questioned the captain's authority and other insults like not addressing his captain with his title and the proper respect. 

It was a slow process, but over the next 9 months long journey, Marco slowly became more and more obedient. He mostly stopped just barking orders without approval. He no longer argued when a plan was presented or an order given. When the evaluation of their second group of trainees came, Shu couldn't care less. Despite being slower to respond to the rapid weather-changes of the New World, they were still skilled enough for Sengoku to order yet another voyage. 

It was not until their third 9 months long voyage that Shu finally saw Marcos powers. The training ship mostly kept out of trouble, focusing on the safety and education of their men rather than combat. And if they ever did run into pirates Shu was quick to order the trainees to the front lines as Marco kept the ship in an advantageous position. On the few occasions Marco had been involved in the fighting Shu had paid him little mind. 

But then they ran into Red-hair Shanks. It had been a stupid reason that lead to the fight, something about the pirates needing more supplies for a party or something stupid like that. Shu had ordered a retreat almost immediately, but as he shouted orders to the useless navigators, one of the pirates had managed to get a lucky shot against him. 

Falling to the ground with a bleeding bullet wound, his men without a leader, his ship soon to be captured by ruthless pirates, Shu had accepted defeat. But then Marco had taken command. The lousy backstabbing bastard had taken the first opportunity he got and tried to steal Shu's position as captain. 

Then, as the traitorous bastard had ordered the men to fall back as he covered their escape, the sniper Yasop had put a bullet in the lieutenants brain. For a brief moment, Shu had almost felt a little bad about the joy it brought him to see Marco stagger backwards with a hole in his head.

But then the blue flames had erupted from him and he had launched into the fight like a rabid animal as the remaining marines frantically organized their retreat. Marco’s long legs became burning talons as he launched a ferocious counterattack against the pirates.

He had kept the pirates distracted as the rest of the marines escapes, only returning to the ship after he had torn up the sails of Red-Hair's ships to help their escape. He had kept the devil fruit secret for over a year, and when he finally saw his opportunity to steal the captain's command he had revealed his powers as he made his move. 

But Shu had survived and despite Marco's best efforts he remained in charge. Marco had immediately gone back to pretending he was “just a navigator” and that he had no interest in taking the captain’s command. But Shu saw through his deceptions. Marco was just another power hungry upstart who wanted to replace his superiors.

So when Red-hair began tracking them down and “running into them” more and more, Shu knew the real reason behind the attacks. Marco wanted another chance to replace him and kept drawing Red-Hair to them in the hopes that one of the pirates would get lucky again and take down Shu. So Shu sent the traitor to the vanguard, fighting on the front lines and taking the worst hits in order to keep up the facade of caring for the crew. 

It was after these Red-hair attacks, after he learned about the fruit, that Shu got creative with the punishments for insubordination. A beating would be fruitless if it was immediately healed and the pain didn't linger. But the powers of the fruit opened the door for countless new possibilities. The traitor could not die from the cold, nor hunger, thirst or exhaustion. And Shu was a very creative man. 

Marco was left alone in the cell for what he presumed to be the rest of the day. The sounds of wood creaking under worried steps and the endless rolling of the waves were his only companions as exhaustion clawed itself deep into Marco's bones. After the last 24 hours, Marco found that he was both physically and emotionally exhausted. 

As much as he wanted to pretend otherwise, watching the pirates regard him with disgust, sadness and betrayal felt horrible. And the worry for Thatch's life didn't exactly make him feel any less terrible. 

Marco could probably help. While he had never healed anything more than a scratch on someone else, Marco was pretty sure he could a least dilute the poison. The power to heal others were greatly limited, and Marco had little to no experience with using it, but it could work. But revealing that that his powers could also partially heal others was dangerous. There was a reason he had never revealed that particular detail to his fellow marines. 

If the pirates saw it as a valuable asset, they might decide to never let Marco go, keeping him as a handy cure for poisons and injuries. The pirates who had raided his family's ship years ago had been after that very power, and Marco did not want to repeat that event. But if he did reveal the power, he could possibly use the moments of being unchained to escape. Then again, he hadn’t been chained when Whitebeard’s tremor grounded him and made him an easy target. Even if he was free to roam the ship 24/7, escaping would be far more difficult than his previous disastrous escape attempt.

What was he even doing? He was debating with himself if he should reveal something he kept secret from his own allies, to a pirate crew. Not just any crew either, but one of the biggest and most well connected crews in the entire world. The moment he revealed anything to these people, the entire seas would know about it, including the marines. He would be making himself into a target and compromise the safety of himself and any crew he would ever sail with.

All to save a pirate. 

No. He would have to come up with a different plan that bought him his freedom. Perhaps he could trade some information, or a favour. No. Favours would either be too specific and not be worth it, or be broad enough to be misinterpreted and would always come back to bite you. He could always just say he owes them a favour and then never repay it, but Marco didn’t want to do that. Not just because it would paint a target on his back, but because despite what he told himself he genuinely liked these pirates. He didn’t want to betray their trust. Perhaps he could keep training the pirates as navigators or in haki. That way he would be able to earn back his freedom without revealing secret marine information or personal secrets. 

But that wouldn’t help Thatch… 

Groaning, Marco gradually began to reach the conclusion that the only thing he had that he still had that he could trade for his own freedom was his healing powers. He could reveal his powers to the enemy, making his own allies even more suspicious of him than they already were if they ever heard about it, but potentially healing Thatch to pay for his own freedom. He could potentially make himself a target to all the marines, a lot of pirates, and probably a ton of bounty hunters hoping to make some money. All to save a pirate. A man he had barely known for 48 hours.

All to save a friend…

Sighing loudly, Marco closed his eyes and considered his options one more time.

Ever since he ate his devil fruit, Ace's body temperature had remained unnaturally warm. He was never chilly or cold anymore, and most of the time he could enjoy the freedom of walking shirtless even in a blizzard. But as the young pirate sat beside Thatch's pale, still bleeding body, Ace felt cold to his very core. Teach was gone, and while they didn't want to admit it, Thatch was going soon.

The poison apparently had a cure, but only from a rare flower that bloomed during winter on a specific summer island in West blue. Even if they could get there in a day, it would take another 3 months before the flower bloomed and could be harvested. Teach had no doubt chosen that poison for that very reason. Whitebeard's influence was wide, and most antidotes would be easy to track down with the help of their countless allies around the world. But this particular flower only bloomed for 3 days before it died and became useless until it bloomed again a year later.

Thatch's breath hitched for a second, and Ace felt his heart stop only to resume as the dying man drew another laboured breath. Clenching his fists, Ace knew this was his fault. Teach was a part of his division. He had been Ace's responsibility, yet Ace had allowed him kill his brother and escape as Ace had chased down and tried to kill an innocent man. 

Ace wanted nothing more than to rush out and start tracking Teach down, but it felt wrong to leave his brothers side. There was still the slim chance that he could regain consciousness before he inevitably faded away for good. Ace wanted to be here if he ever woke. Ace needed to be there and apologise before he left to bring Teach to justice. Yet a small part of him dreaded having to look Thatch in the eyes and tell him he would die because of Ace’s failures. 

The sound of a door opening brought his mind back to Thatch's bedside. His fists were clenched in front of him, and he quickly put out the small fire that flickered across his knuckles before he turned to see who had entered the small infermery. 

"Anything new?" Izo's normally calm and collected voice was raw and vulnerable in a way that Ace could only describe as "wrong". Izo was usually the one who best hid his emotions and remained calm and logical in the face of terrible odds. But as he sank down into the chair next to Ace, he looked defeated. 

Ace shook his head sadly as he forced his eyes to leave Izo and return to Thatch's almost grey hand where it lay lifelessly on the matres in front him. 

"Nothing. Pops is calling in favours from all across the seas, but nobody has the flower at this time of year."

Trailing off, Ace felt Izo deflate a little more next to him before the crossdresser carefully reached out to wrap Thatch's hand in his own. Ace studied Thatch's face in the faint hope that he would react in any way to the touch, but there was nothing. Only laboured breathing and sweat trailing down his pale face. 

"Somebody out there have got to have the cure." Ace decided not to call Izo out on the desperation in his voice. He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than reassure Ace. The badly hidden defeat and desperation in Izo's tone only fueled Ace’s hatred and guilt further. If he had been more observant Izo wouldn’t have to suffer like this.

"I am going to kill him." Ace's declaration was barely a whispers, but is echoed in the otherwise quiet room as his burning hatred bled into his voice. Izo pulled his tired eyes away from Thatch and turned to fix Ace with an unimpressed look. 

"Get in line Ace. There are a lot of people that wants to kill Teech. You are going to have to-" Izo's half hearted attempt at humour was interrupted as Ace shot up from his seat and began pacing angrily around the room. 

"He was in my division Izo!" Ace longed to hit something. To set something on fire and watch it burn, but the only thing he could do was sit and watch his brother die. He should have stopped Teech. He should have seen the signs, or at least listened to Marco instead of trying to kill him and let the traitor escape. If only Ace had been a little more observant or cool under pressure then this wouldn’t have happened. Ace was ripped from his spiraling thoughts as Izo roughly grabbed his shoulder. 

“If you are about to say some stupid shit along the lines of It’s all my fault, I am going to hit you.” It was a bit comforting to hear Izo’s voice fall back into it’s normal cold and controlled tone, but Ace felt himself grow more angry. How could they not see it was his fault? Were everyone just pretending Ace was not at fault because they wanted to spare him the guilt? 

“I should have noticed something was wrong. I should have been there to protect Thatch. I shou-" Ace's outbursts were interrupted by a sharp slap that snapped his face to the side. Bringing his own hand up to cradle his stinging cheek, Ace turned back and sent Izo a glare that could rival even Pop's. 

"Nobody knows the future Ace, we have to accept that. You couldn’t have known anything was about to happen. Don’t blame yourself for this." Izo's voice held a complicated mix of emotions, but Ace focused on the sound of pity. He could feel his anger burn brighter. He didn’t need any pity. He didn’t deserve any god damned pity.

"Then what do you suggest I do!? Just let him go? Maybe I should I go tell the rest of my men that there are no punishment for murdering their own brother." Ace was pacing and shouting at this point, but he couldn't care any less if anyone else heard them. Izo's frustrated frown matched the frustration Ace felt himself. 

"That's not what I said Ace! Teach won't go free, but blaming yourself for his actions and obsessing over what you could have and should have done won't bring him to justice! We need to keep calm and assess the situation, not rush in blindly and get killed." 

Izo's voice was frustratingly calm and collected, even as he raised the volume to match Ace's angry shouts. Izo was always calm and collected. He rarely let anything visibly affect him, and when he did let something affect him, it either made him laugh, smirk or pull out his gun. He never cared when he lost or won at games. He never cared if they were thrown out of bars in small villages because they "were monsters". He never cared about anything and that made Aces blood boil.

"It may be easy for you to not give a fuck, but some of us actually care about our family!" 

As soon as he said it Ace regretted ever having opened his dumb mouth. The shift in Izo's expression was immediate and terrifying as his carefully maintained mask slipped away to reveal a glimpse of hurt and betrayal before cold rage flooded his face. With two quick steps, Izo violently pushed Ace back against the wall and stepped up so that they were mere inches apart. His teeth were bared in a snarl as he growled at Ace.

"Just fucking listen for two god damned seconds before I do something we are both going to regret." 

Shrinking back against the wall under Izo's burning glare, Ace remained silent as Izo took a few deep breaths to calm his shaking hands. Ace didn’t feer Izo. He trusted his brother completely. Yet the sight of Izo’s eyes filled with nothing but rage and anger left Ace’s heart beating loudly in his chest.

"Not a day goes by that I don't regret not being there to protect my family! I should have stayed to stop Wano from falling to ruin. If I had joined Oden when he when he finally did returned home I would have been there to protect my family as they faced a fight they couldn't possibly win."

As Izo spoke, Ace could see the cold rage in his brother’s eyes turn into burning regret. When he finally continued after a moment that seemed to last forever, Izo’s voice was quiet and filled with regret.

“But I didn't. I fell in love with the sea and this new family. I cared about them just as much as my old family, and it was easier not to return to the ones I had abandoned. And as I spent my days drinking and laughing with my new brothers, my old family fought and died for the home that I abandoned, desperate for the help I refused them.”

Silence filled the infirmary, only broken by Thatch’s shallow breaths and Ace’s thundering heart. Izo took a step back, carefully composing and retreating behind his uncaring mask once more as Ace finally dared to take a breath. He wanted to say something, anything, to comfort Izo as he hid behind fake indifference, but Ace’s mind came up blank. Comforting words were never his speciality. Sabo had always been better at comforting others.

“Izo, I-” But his stammered apology was cut off as Izo turned to look back at the bed where Thatch laid.

“The past can’t be changed, no amount of rage, revenge or emotions will ever bring them all back. All that matters is what we have right now, and what we do to protect it.” The somber words left Ace stunned as Izo reached for Thatch’s hand. “Don’t do anything stupid Ace, I can’t take losing another brother.”

Giving Thatch’s hand one final desperate squeeze Izo let go and turned to leave. Ace wanted to stop him, to reach out and grab his arm before he left. But when he caught a glimpse Izo’s teary eyes, Ace faltered. Watching his distraught brother leave, Ace couldn’t help but curse himself for making them feel that way. Perhaps it really would have been better if he was never born after all...

The sound of someone knocking on the door to his cell woke Marco from where he had fallen asleep in the corner. His back and arms were aching after being forced into such an awkward positions for however long he had slept. Stretching to the best of his ability despite the chains, Marco turned just in time to see the door swing open and reveal the familiar sight of captain Whitebeard. 

The huge man looked like he hadn't slept since they last spoke. Dark bags framed his eyes and his shoulders were slumped in defeat as he carried a bowl of what Marco could only guess was food. Without a word, the pirate closed the door behind him and made his way to sit with crossed legs in front of Marco. He set the bowl down with a sigh and reached into deep his pocket to fish out a set of keys. 

"Do me a favour and don't start anything." Momentarily confused at Whitebeard's words, Marco sat perfectly still as the huge pirate reached around him to unlock the manacles securing his hands behind his back. The sweet relief of being able to relax his arms properly was immediate as small blue flames subconsciously licked across his aching shoulders. His legs were still chained to the wall, but compared to the chilling and draining seastone those normal chains were barely a bother.

Captain Whitebeard held out the bowl to him. Gingerly accepting it, Marco briefly considered if the food could be a trap. Shu sometimes poisoned the food after a longer period of starvation in order to show him "who was in charge". But as long as his powers could do their thing, a small amount of poison wouldn’t really matter. Grabbing the spoon that was half submerged in the bowl, Marco carefully tasted the food before coming to the conclusion that it didn't seem poisoned. 

It was the first taste of the warm soup that made Marco realize just how hungry he was. Last time he had eaten was during the disastrous dinner where he had attacked Ace. After that he had been trying and failing to escape while burning energy on flying, fighting and healing. As he began to wolf down the soup at an almost inhuman speed, Marco heard Whitebeard chuckle softly. That was a good sign. Captain Shu usually didn't laugh if he had poisoned or otherwise messed with the food. He always tried to play it cool and pretend like nothing was out of the ordinary.

Swallowing down the last remaining soup, Marco lifted his guarded eyes to meet Captain Whitebeard's tiered ones. The pirate's gaze seemed to bury itself deep into Marco's soul, searching for something, but Marco couldn't quite tell what. Being unable to read the pirates motives and emotions was quickly becoming a normal occurrence despite Marco's best attempts at deciphering them. 

Breaking eye contact Marco lowered his eyes towards the floor. Setting the bowl down, he gave his shoulders a few rolls to make sure they had no lingering side-effects. He knew logically that there wouldn’t be any ill effects as long as his fruit got to heal him, but it was nevertheless comforting to prove to himself that he was fine. Taking a deep breath, Marco asked the question that was burning on his tongue. 

"How is he?" 

Captain Whitebeard had a good poker face as he barely even flinched at the question, but as he took a deep breath, Marco felt the room shake faintly around them, revealing the captains troubled emotions. 

"The poison is doing its job. He might be bleeding out slowly, but he is still bleeding out."

Marco had only ever encountered Captain Whitebeard once before this whole mess, but even he could hear how wrong the sound of defeat sounded when it came from the Emperor. In that moment Whitebeard was not captain. He was not an emperor or notorious pirate. He was a father watching his son die slowly, unable to do anything to help him. 

Marco only had one thing to trade in exchange for his freedom. He only had one shot at getting out of this mess. Logically, he should wait until the pirates were desperate before offering to help. He should wait until there was absolutely no other way to possibly save Thatch before he began negotiations. But hearing the thinly veiled desperation and despair in the father's voice, all logic ceased to be important. 

"I might be able to help him." Marco's quiet confession plunged the room into total silence. Hesitating for a second, Marco lifted his eyes to meet the guarded eyes of Edward Newgate. When Marco didn't continue, Newgate spoke softly. 

"How?" The word itself seemed to tremble as Whitebeard spoke it with such gravity and purpours. Squaring his shoulders, Marco raised his right hand and let small blue flames burst from his palm. 

"I can heal myself from almost anything, and while it has nowhere near the same effect, I can also partially heal the wounds others." At Whitebeard's look of disbelief, Marco almost began to panic. If he fucked up this one favour he could do for the pirates he wouldn't have any leverage to buy his freedom. He needed Whitebeard to believe him and give him the chance to heal Thatch.

"I haven't used the power like that in years, but I'm sure it can at least counteract the poison. I could-" Marco's rambling explanation was interrupted by Whitebeard reaching for his belt and pulling out a dagger. Flinching despite his best efforts not to show fear, Marco was both surprised, relieved and horrified when the dagger sank into Whitebeard's thigh. Stunned by the display, Marco needed a few seconds to process the words Whitebeard said before he comprehended them. 

"Prove it." 

Cursing loudly, Marco lunged for the dagger, ripping it out from the leg and tossing it to the side before he brought his right hand to press on the wound and force his flames to lick against it.

"Are all you pirates batshit crazy!? I just told you that I'm haven't used that power in a while and your response is stabbing your own fucking leg?!"

As Marco poured his flames into the wound, he was immediately reminded why he despised using his powers to heal others. The process was quite literally draining. He poured his own life force into the wound in order for his flames to mend the flesh back together and stop the bleeding. 

"Your sons already think I stabbed one of you. Don't give them reason believe I stabbed another!" 

A quiet grunt from Whitebeard gave away the fact that being healed was not a pleasant experience for him either. Marco could only imagine what it would feel like to have his own healing focused on healing only a singular wound and not actively counteracting the pain of flesh mending itself back together. As the wound closed up fully, Marco was breathing heavily as if he had just run a race. Sitting back and slumping against the wall, Marco watched as the captain poked at the faint scar on his leg that had been a bleeding wound mere moments ago with a look of wonder on his face.

"What do you want in exchange for healing Thatch like that?" Newgate's voice was quiet and hopeful as he spoke, but Marco still detected the hidden suspicion behind the words. Whitebeard knew this was a negotiation. He knew Marco was an enemy, and that no prisoner would offer such a gift freely. Steeling himself, Marco put on his best poker face as he did his best to hide his own anxiousness. 

"I want two things." Whitebeard's eyes narrowed slightly as Marco spoke. "Number one, after I help Thatch, I am free to leave. You give me a logpose, a change of clothes and food for at least 3 days, and I get to leave." 

Marco barely managed to get the words out before Whitebeard nodded and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Of course, of course. You will get whatever provisions you need."

Meeting his eyes, Marco gave a short nod before he kept going. "Secondly, the Whitebeard pirates are going to spread the information that I broke out and escaped." At Newgate's questioning look, Marco sighed. "Red-hair's constant invitations to join his crew has already lead to one investigation into my loyalties. The last thing I need is for anyone to believe I helped out the Whitebeard pirates by my own free will." 

The suspicion in Whitebeard's eyes melted away and a soft smile covered his face. Tossing the keys he had used on the manacles to Marco, Whitebeard got to his feet. 

"Don't worry son. I have tricked more than my fair share of Marines through the years. In the mad scramble for the antidote, you managed to break out and flee from right under my nose."

As Marco caught the keys he was left stunned. He had expected a difficult round of negotiations in order to get half of what he had just demanded. Part of him really wanted to believe that Newgate truly meant to keep his part of the deal and let him go once Thatch was healed, but he knew better. No matter how kind Newgate was, he was still a pirate. Lying, stealing and kidnapping was their daily routine. When Marco didn't immediately follow Whitebeard as he left, the pirate gave him a look and gestured to the door with his hand. 

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Fumbling with the keys for a second, Marco found the right one and managed to unlock the chains around his legs just as Whitebeard opened the door to his cell and started leaving. Scrambling to get to his feet and catch up, Marco rushed after the huge man. Whitebeard walked with purpose and authority as his long legs took enormous steps down one of the many hallways of the Moby Dick. Marco almost had to jog to keep up with the huge man's brisk walk. 

As they emerged from the deepest hallways of the hull, the pair started passing by more and more pirates roaming the halls. While nobody did anything to stop him as he followed the captain, the confusion and distrust was plain to see on their faces. Making sure to stick as close to Newgate as possible, Marco kept his Haki on high alert. 

After a few minutes Whitebeard suddenly stopped, nearly causing Marco to crash into him at the abrupt stop. Whitebeard gave the door he had stopped in front of two quick knocks before he pushed the door open before anyone could respond and entered the room. 

Marco followed close behind him, but as he got a good view of the room he froze. Thatch was surrounded by three different doctors and a few nurses as they frantically rushed around, trying to keep him alive. The doctors called out their status to each other, and while Marco was no doctor, he had enough medical training to know that it was bad. 

"What happened?" Whitebeard's booming voice seemed muddled to Marco's shocked mind, but the reply didn't come from one of the doctors. From the corner by the door came the confused and sacred voice of Ace. 

"H-he just stopped breathing. His heart just s-stopped… I didn't know what to do…" Ace kept talking, and Newgate replied but Marco didn't pay attention. If Thatch’s heart had stopped he didn't have time to panic. Rushing forwards Marco forced his way past one of the doctors and pressed his hands down on Thatch's chest despite their protests.

The deep stab wound only inches from Thatch's heart was still bleeding sluggishly as Marco pressed his hands over it. He could hear the commotion in the room behind him, but he paid it no mind as he focused all his energy on forcing Thatch's heart to start beating and blue flames sprung to life across the Thatch’s chest. 

A couple seconds passed with no reaction and Marco briefly wondered if he had been too late, only for the chest to suddenly rise as Thatch's lungs filled with oxygen. The breath was shallow, and the faint beat below his fingers was stuttering and uneven, but it was a beat. Thatch was still alive, if only barely. 

As the flames grew around his hands Marco heard the confused and angry voice of Fire fist demanding to know what was going on, but before the captain could explain, the door slammed heavily against the wall and Izo's accusatory voice joined the chorus of discord behind him. Gritting his teeth Marco took a deep breath before he spoke over the chaos. 

"Either shut up or get out! I don't need distractions." His clipped voice made it sound like he was in the middle of lifting a heavy weight, but at least it shut them up. As Newgate began whispering an explanation to his sons, Marco turned to one of the three doctors that still surrounded him.

“I’m keeping his heart beating. You three stop the bleeding and get him more blood when he runs low. I need to focus on fighting the poison.” The doctor turned and gave the captain a questioning look, but Marco assumed he got an affirmative response of some sort, because he soon began ordering the nurses to get the blood-bags ready. 

Turning his full attention back to Thatch, Marco tuned out the world around him. Sweat began to gathered at his brow as he felt his own body growing weaker, but he refused to give up. Healing Whitebeard had been quick. A simple, clean, stab wound only needed a focused flame of healing to burn at the wound. Healing Thatch was more complicated. Because the poison had already spread through Thatch’s entire body Marco had to focus his flames on a much larger area, something that drained him even quicker than normal.

Every now and then as the minutes grew longer, one of the doctors would call out something to one of the nurses as they monitored Thatch, but apart from that the only sounds in the room were the laboured breathing of Thatch slowly becoming stronger, and Marco's own breaths growing more and more laboured.

At one point Marco's legs had buckled and Ace had been quick to step forwards in order to support him, but a quick hiss from Marco had told him to stay put and stay quiet. Izo however was not so easily dissuaded and had taken up position on Marco’s right side, careful not to get in the way of the Doctors.

After almost an hour of constant healing and blood transfusions, Marco felt like he was about to pass out any second when Thatch finally regained consciousness. One moment Marco was standing over the lifeless body of Thatch, the next his hands was smacked away by a delirious Thatch that frantically tried to fight against the painful procedure as his chest mended itself back together. 

In a matter of seconds, Izo had the arm restrained and Marco was about to lunge back into action when his heart skipped a beat. 

And then another.

And another.

Oh shit.

Taking a couple unsteady steps backwards, Marco finally let his flames return to himself as his legs crumpled beneath him. He probably should have taken a break, or a rest or something. Before his knees hit the floor, an arm wrapped around him and helped lower him the remaining few inches gently as Marco’s heart quickly got back into its proper rhythm. Whoever had their arm wrapped around him dragged Marco out of the way as the doctors and nurses all rushed over to restrain and hopefully calm down Thatch. 

It took Marco an embarrassingly long time before he managed to get his laboured breathing under control. Whoever was dragging him let go of him and Marco collapsed with his back against the wall and his head between his knees as he frantically gasped for breath. His heart was beating like normal, but he could feel the tingling sensation where his flames had licked at his heart. Yeah, he had definitely pushed himself to hard. 

But as he lifted his head and his eyes met the eyes of a now much calmer Thatch where he half sat, half laid back in the bed, Marco didn’t really care. Ace’s hand landed on his shoulder, and Marco turned to meet the concerned eyes of the young pirate. He was saying something, but Marco couldn’t hear anything over the constant echo of his heartbeat that pulsed through his head. But that was fine. 

“-lright Marco?”

Alright. Was he alright? Thatch was fine, Marco’s own heart was beating, and Ace was not threatening to kill him. Everything was a lot better than it had been. Looking over at the pale, freckled boy next to him, Marco saw the longing in his eyes as the kid glanced towards the bed. A smile crossed Marco’s lips as he gulped down another breath.

“I’m fine. Exhausted but fine. Go.”

For a moment, Ace looked as if he would protest, but then he stole another glance at Thatch who were sitting upright in the bed, surrounded by doctors. Meeting Marco’s eyes for a final brief second, Ace got to his feet and crossed the room quicker than Marco had seen any man move.

Raising his hand to his chest, Marco felt the reassuringly steady beat of his own heart. The fact that it hadn’t been beating was a real concern. It revealed the possibility that he didn’t fully understand how his powers healed others. He had never healed anything bigger than small scratches on anyone but himself, and that had been years ago. It would make sense if there were bigger drawbacks to healing a mortal wound that he didn’t know about.

He would have to investigate it further some other time. Right now, all he wanted was to sleep. Unconsciousness was clawing at the edges of his mind as Marco saw Ace almost strangle his brother in a desperate hug as Izo and Whitebeard half-heartedly told him to let go and let the man breath.

Pushing himself to his feet, Marco leaned heavily on the wall as the room spun. For a moment he stood there, considering his own physical state and contemplating just how much he had underestimated his exhaustion as his legs swayed beneath him. 

“Are you ok Marco?” Whitebeard’s booming voice caused Marco to open his eyes and focus back on the group of pirates that crowded around the bed. When had he closed them? Whitebeard was a few steps closer to Marco than he had been the last time Marco paid attention to the world around him.

"I think I am going to pass out.”

Marco’s words words blurred together as his mouth responded before his slow mind could comprehend them. But the pirates probably understood what he meant and got the message. Especially as Marco's body chose that moment to go limp as exhaustion finally claimed him and he passed out. The last thing he was aware enough to notice was huge arms wrapping around him and catching him before he hit the wooden floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So remember when I said I wouldn't update for like 10 weeks!?!?  
Well that was apparently a fucking lie.
> 
> University is still busy, and I no longer spend 2 hours a day on a train with nothing to do but write, so don't start expecting a consistent upload schedule. I am still the procrastinating mess you all know and love/hate!
> 
> This chapter was a real struggle to write, as I had to rewrite it from scratch about 3 times because the story has grown in ways i never expected. Now I finally have a rough outline again, so let's see where this journey goes!


	7. Heartfelt goodbye

The sound of arguing woke Marco from his deep, dreamless sleep. Arguing in the morning was never a good thing. It usually meant that one of the new navigators had messed up during the night-watch and they were of course.

Quickly sitting up in the bed, Marco was briefly confused to find he that was in a bed and not a hammock. However, the surprise was quickly replaced with confusion as his mind took a moment to realised he was still in the Moby Dick infirmary. As the arguing continued to his right and Marco slowly turned his head and recognised the source. 

Ace, Izo and the fishman that had helped capture Marco was all crowded around a game of cards that was currently taking place on top of Thatch's bed. And if Marco had to judge by Ace’s and Thatch's outraged voices, Izo was winning. 

It was the fishman who first realised Marco was awake, as he lifted his eyes from his own cards to grin at the shouting Ace only to notice Marco sitting upright on the bed behind the kid's back. His wide grin fell away and was replaced with surprise as he met Marco's eyes. 

Noticing the fishman's lack of attention to the game, Izo followed his gaze only to freeze for a second as his eyes landed on Marco. In a single swift motion, Izo placed his cards down, got to his feet and was halfway to Marco's bed before the others even registered it. 

Marco couldn't quite resist the urge to back away as Izo strode towards him. In the short span of time he had know the man, Izo had threatened to shoot him more than once, and Marco didn't doubt that he would follow through on the threat. 

However before Marco had the time to get even close to the edge of the bed, Izo's arms wrapped around the marine and pulled him into a deep hug. Marco remained stiff as a board as he saw the other pirates jaws drop to the floor behind Izo's back. For a brief moment, the world stood still as the pirates watched the hug in disbelief as Izo’s face buried itself into Marco’s shoulder.

Caught in the pirate’s embrace, Marco scanned his memories in search for the explanation as to how he ended up in this situation. He had been captured on the Moby Dick but then the captain had let him go in order to heal Thatch. He had revealed his healing powers and had kept Thatch alive. They knew he could heal others. Marco felt panic wash over him at the realisation. His heart began to speed up. They knew what he could do. They knew he was a valuable asset. 

Marco needed to flee. He needed to escape before they chained him and threw him back in the cell. The arms around that were wrapped around him already felt like chains. But they were not seastone. He could break free from them and fly away, he just needed to play it cool until he was allowed onto the deck. He felt Izo’s body draw a deep breath, no doubt preparing to launch into one of his angry rants. 

Bracing himself for a harsh verbal beating, Marco was dumbfounded at the quiet “Thank you.” whispered into his shoulder. He didn’t understand. Marco was not unfamiliar with gratitude, but it usually came in the form of a hot cup of coffee after a storm, or a handshake from a fellow navigator once the training was done. It was never a hug. Marco didn’t do hugs. 

Before the marine’s body managed to catch up to his reeling mind, Izo’s arms released him as the pirate took a step back. One of the hands lingered on Marco’s right shoulder a second longer than it needed, and Marco could have sworn that there was a wetness to the pirate’s eyes as he pulled away. Spinning on his heels, Izo was back to his usual self by the time he was facing the three pirates on the other bed.

“Namur,” Izo barked as the fishman, “Make sure none of these idiots get themselves killed while I get Pops.” The command left no room for discussion as Izo marched out of the infirmary and slammed the door shut behind him. It was only after the echo of the slamming door fell quiet that Marco turned what little attention he had left towards the others. His panicking mind was still struggling to catch up as his heart kept racing.

The silence stretched for what seemed like minutes, but was probably no more than a few seconds. Marco didn’t know what to say. He barely knew where to put his hands as his heart hammered relentlessly in his chest. Ace was stubbornly refusing to meet his eyes, and the fishman, Namur, studied Marco like he was a caged animal. The panicked voice in Marco’s head was whispering the directions to the deck he had done his best to memorise.

“You couldn’t have waited like, 2 more minutes before you woke up?” Thatch whined as he flipped over the hand of cards Izo had left on the bed. “I finally had a hand to beat him.” The lighthearted whining seemed to snap the fishman out of his thoughts as he grinned back at the whining pirate.

“We both know Izo could bluff his way into Mariejois with nothing but the clothes on his back.” Namur, the 8th division commander Marco’s mind supplied as the fishman laughed. Thatch joined in the laughter. “I was hoping he would feel bad for me and let me win at least once.” At Thatch’s comment, Ace finally looked up from his hands and leveled Thatch a good natured smirk.

“If you thought that for a second then you are almost as stupid as you look.” Ace taunted as the others laughed. The levity and kind hearted teasing was enough of a distraction for Marco’s mind to catch up to his situation. Despite what his panicking mind was telling him, Marco trusted these pirates. His heart was still racing, but his mind was starting calm down. 

Marco was about to join in the banter when he felt something wrong. His flippant comment about Thatch losing even if Izo threw the game never left his mouth as the breath caught in his lungs as his heart skipped a beat. His hands jerked to his chest despite his effort to keep them still as he felt the tingling of his flames deep in his chest. That was probably not a good thing, his mind supplied.

Glancing back at the pirates, Marco was relieved to find that Thatch and Ace were still fighting over the cards. Namur’s eyes were resting on Marco’s hands as they grabbed at his chest, but the pirate said nothing as Marco forced the hands to his side and pulled his legs up to sit cross legged in the middle of the bed. Clearing his throat, Marco’s voice cut through the bickering.

“How are you feeling Thatch?” Marco tried his best to sound uninterested, but the worry was obvious even to himself as his eyes scanned the Pirate. He was sitting with his legs crossed beneath him as he leaned back against a mountain of pillows. Bandages still covered hum from his stomach to his shoulders, but there was no denying that Thatch looked a lot better. 

"Whatever you did got rid of the poison and healed most of the wound, so I feel perfectly fine!" Thatch grinned as he flexed his arms to show off just how fine he was. "But nobody wants to let me head back to the kitchen, despite me having cooked in a worse condition than this."

At Thatch's whining Marco let out a soft chuckle. If he was healthy enough to complain then he would be fine. Letting out a breath he didn't realise he had been holding, Marco allowed himself to relax for just a moment and take a deep brearh. Nobody was trying to kill him, nobody was actively dying, and if Whitebeard kept his word Marco would be free to leave whenever he wanted. 

The sudden sound of the door slamming open jolted Marco out of his calm state. Head snapping towards the sound, Marco was on his feet before he knew it and had placed the bed between himself and the potential treat. Years of training flooded back in seconds. Gain distance, assess the situation, identify the weak link of the attackers, attack them before they attack you- 

His heart missed another missed beat. 

Marco's left hand twitched towards his chest as the faint tickling of his flames echoed in his chest. He tried to take a deep breath to help calm his heart, but the air stuck in his throat as his heart sluggishly pumped the next beats. He knew he wasn’t in any real danger as he felt his flames burn, but it was concerning that it took him this long to heal.

“-n’t mean to spook you.”

Marco heard the smirk in Izo’s voice as he was closing the door behind him and the enormous captain. He wanted to shoot back a snarky reply but as his heart skipped another beat Marco's hand found his chest as he hunched over slightly. He was getting air, and his blood was circulating. His fire licked at his heart as it returned to a normal rhythm, sluggish beats growing steady. He was fine.

The sudden enormous hand on his shoulder made Marco jerk away, only to find himself trapped between the bed he had been sleeping in on his left and Captain Whitebeard on his right. Despite his best efforts, Marco couldn’t help but flinch as the huge hand moved. His heart gave a single sluggish beat in between the countless rapid yet good beats. 

“What’s wrong son?” 

The normally booming voice of Captain Whitebeard was quiet and oddly calming as Marco tried to get his racing heart under control. Whatever the problem was, it wouldn’t be life threatening. The reassuring tickle of his flames was proof enough that his body was healing. Calming his heart and catching his breath, Marco was about to dismiss the pirate’s worries as another voice filled the room.

“He clutched his chest earlier as well, right after Izo left to get you Pops.” Snapping his head towards the talking fishman, Marco glared at Namur with. His health was his own problem, and Marco preferred to deal with his problems himself.

“I’m fine.” the marine grumbled as he slipped back into the posture and tone of voice he used when giving orders to new the navigators. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

Despite Marco’s protest Whitebeard’s large hand once again found its way to the smaller man’s shoulder. The huge hand gently pushed Marco to sit back down onto the bed. He briefly considered resisting the gentle yet firm grip, but Marco was starting to grow tired of the constant flipping between acting like allies and enemies. Accepting defeat, Marco allowed himself to be manhandled into sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“It’s honestly fine. I’ll be healed in no time.” He didn’t quite know if he was trying to convince the pirates or himself, but judging from the unimpressed frown on Izo’s face, he was not doing a good job either way.

“Didn’t you tell me you hadn’t used your healing on others in years? How would you know what the side effects are?” If glares could kill, then Whitebeard would be a dead man as Marco turned back to the pirate. His hand was still wrapped around Marco’s shoulder as he met Marco’s frustrated eyes with his own slightly amused gaze. Their staring contest was interrupted as a loud snort of badly repressed laughter filled the room.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe it.” Thatch choked out between his laughter. “You are even worse than Jozu and Pops.” He barely got the last words out before he dissolved into stifled laughter. Whitebeard and Marco both turned their heads in perfect unison to give the bandaged man indignant looks, causing both Namur and Ace to join in the laughter.

Despite himself, Marco couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face at the display. On the bed next to him were 3 of the most wanted men on the grand line, laughing their asses off at the expense of their flustered captain. It reminded him of his own crew. Not the marines, but his parent’s original crew. Despite just being merchants they had been more than coworkers. Despite not being related by blood, Marco had regarded the entire crew as his friends. 

His family.

As Thatch doubled over, complaining about how it hurt to laugh and Namur and Ace just laughed harder, teasing their injured brother, Marco felt something stirr deep inside his core. They were criminals. They were lawless pirates. They were conquerors and bandits. And yet, they were a family. And as Whitebeard let out a chuckle and released Marco’s shoulder in order to walk over to his laughing sons and lovingly ruffle Ace’s hair, Marco failed to swallow down the jealousy he felt.

Tearing his eyes away from the other bed, Marco accidentally met Izo’s sharp eyes. Marco could swear that those eyes could see straight through him as the pirate offered him a sad smile. 

Steeling himself, Marco tuned out those thoughts. He couldn’t afford to question his life choices now. He knew that if he started going down that path, he would not be able to return, so Marco pulled his focus back to his mission. He was a captive on a pirate ship who had bargained for his freedom. With his part of the deal fulfilled, there was only one path forwards. Pushing himself back to his feet, Marco scolded his face back into the emotionless mask he so often wore.

“I believe that fulfils my part of the deal Newgate.” Marco’s voice was emotionless as he cut through the laughter in the room. He sounded every bit like the Marine he was. “If you would be so kind as to fulfil your part then I can be on my way.”

While he felt the disappointed and disapproving eyes that fell on him, Marco didn’t meet them as he fixed his own cold gaze on the door that lead to his freedom. Or did it lead back to captivity? Ignoring Fire Fist’s protests, insisting he stay and heal for a while more, Marco let his eyes meet Newgate’s disappointed look. 

“We had a deal, right?” And as Whitebeard sighed and reluctantly agreed to provide the provisions for Marco’s journey, the Marine found himself quietly disappointed that the pirate gave up and let him go that easily. 

The small satchel with provisions and clothes the pirates had been provided rested against Marco’s left leg as the studied the logpose. Standing by the railings on the deck of the Moby Dick, Marco finished his final preparations as he studied the logpose one final time before buckling it around his right ankle. It was a lot easier to look at your feet while flying than it was to study the wings that kept you airborne. 

The vivre card Thatch had given him the night everything had gone to hell was safely secured in a small pouch in the satchel along with the money that the pirates had forced onto him. Luke, one of the young navigators had insisted that Marco took a map with him as he left.

Watching the clouds above him curl and dance on the changing winds, Marco had finally run out of excuses to delay his departure. He had a course, he had supplies and his heart hadn’t skipped another beat after calming down in the infirmary. Even the feeling of the lingering flames had faded as he plotted his route to the closest island under the rule of the World Government.

The various pirates mulling about the deck gave him a wide berth as he secured the satchel to his back. He could feel the watchful eyes on him as a few of the commanders of the Whitebeard pirates kept watch across the deck. 

As soon as the satchel was secure, Marco transformed into his hybrid form and stretched out his wings. Sensing the winds ghost past his feathers, Marco sensed the minute changes that not even he could normally detect. Placing one burning talon on the railing, Marco prepared to leap off the ship only to be interrupted by the sound of running feet and a familiar voice calling out.

“Hold on Marco!” Fire Fist called as he rushed over to the railing. Marco stopped his leap and perched on the railing, turning to face the kid. Ace’s eyes were determined as the kid marched right up to the railing and held out a piece of paper.

“You are probably going to run into him sooner or later, so when you run into Luffy, give him my vivre card.” Ace said quietly. Marco hesitated for a second before he accepted the paper with a silent nod and tucking it into the satchel. Marco could sense that the younger man wanted to say something, yet the kid remained silent as he refused to meet Marco’s eyes. Sighing, Marco turned to leave as the kid finally worked up the courage to speak.

“I’m sorry for attacking you.” the kid muttered quietly. “But I still mean what I said to you. The asshole you call captain hit you just for doing your job. That’s not ok.” Marco was about to interrupt as the kid kept talking, voice growing more steady by the second. 

“And yeah I know you are not a traitor and all that, but I used to want to kill Whitebeard. I thought I wanted to kill him and prove I was better than my dad. I thought that if I could kill pops, I would be happy.” Marco was taken aback by the sincerity and intensity in Ace’s voice as he spoke.

“But I was wrong.” Ace spoke quietly, yet the words seemed to echo around Marco. The young pirate seemed to choose for his next words carefully. “ I didn’t betray my old crew when I joined pops. I just allowed myself to be honest about what I wanted.”

A smile spread across the kids face as his voice grew more certain. “Even after I tried to kill Pops, once I was ready to accept what I wanted I was welcomed into the crew with open arms.” Marco was dumbfounded as the kid spoke. The pirate was either a lot more perceptive than Marco had given him credit for, or perhaps he just instinctively knew what to say in order to push Marco’s buttons. The message however was clear as day.

If Marco wanted to turn traitor and leave the marines, Ace would be waiting to welcome him back onto his crew. A brief moment of silence passed between the two, before Marco let out a low chuckle. 

“You are a good kid Ace.” The pirate frowned at being called a kid, but before he could do anything more than pout, Marco continued speaking. “Years ago I swore that I would do everything in my power to prevent good people from becoming the victims of someone else’s greed.”

Ace’s eyes was filled with questions as the younger man studied the marine’s face. Sighing, Marco turned his back to Fire fist and spread his wings once again. “I told Thatch some of the story if you want to know. Tell him I told you to ask him for the details.”

Before the pirate had any more chances to persuade Marco to join them, the Marine lept from the railing. With a burst of blue flames his body morphed into the phoenix. Keeping his eyes locked on the horizon, Marco caught one of the many winds below his wings and soared upwards, away from the pirates. 

Behind him he heard the shouts and the commotion of the surprised pirates who hadn’t seen his powers before. He heard the Booming laugh of the old captain as he sat on his throne. He heard the stern voice of Izo, telling his men to get back to work. And in the middle of the commotion he heard the familiar voice of Thatch from where the man had been allowed to lounge next to his captain. 

“See you later Marco” If a bird could grin, then Thatch’s words would have made Marco’s face slitt in a wide grin. Those self assured pirates who believed that they knew better than anyone else were calling to him. Those assholes who didn’t take no for an answer were sure they would meet again. Those happy idiots almost made Marco rip his eyes from the horizon and look back. 

But Marco was a marine. He was sworn to protect the people from criminals. He was sworn to uphold the laws that protected the helpless families who were trying to make a living around the world. With a shrill cry, the phoenix continues to soar through the air without looking back.

The flight back to society was mostly uneventful. Twice his heart had beat sluggishly, but never quite skipping a beat like it had the first few times. Whatever the problem had been, it was slowly but surely being corrected by his flames. It took two days before Marco spotted a Marine battleship on the horizon, and by then it had been 28 hours since his heart beat wrong. Gracefully landing on the deck in a blaze of blue fire, Marco had announced himself to the captain and asked to be allowed to stay until they reached the next base. 

It had taken a while to explain to the captain how a marine who had been presumed dead after an attack by the 2nd division of the whitebeard pirates had managed to find his way onto their ship, but Marco was quite good at giving reports. He described how he and Fire Fist were fished out of the ocean by the Whitebeard pirates, his imprisonment on the pirate’s ship and his subsequent escape during some kind of comotion.

It took a couple of calls to the higher ups, but after Marco repeated his story for a fourth time he was finally allowed to drop off his satchel by to a spare hammock below deck. Upon request he was also provided with sewing kit to patch up the worst holes in what remained of his uniform pants as a few deckhands ran to get the lieutenant a new shirt and hat. 

Quickly and secretly, Marco stitched the Vivre cards of Whitebeard and Fire Fist to the inside of the waist of his pants. He should hand them over to the marines. They would be great tools for taking down the whitebeard pirates. But Marco just couldn’t bring himself to betray the trust Thatch and Ace had showed him. And it’s not like he was going to use them anyways. The vivre card he got from Thatch was just a security measure Thatch gave him to feel better. And he was just holding on to Ace’s card for his brother, Luffy. Honestly, Marco should probably just burn the cards and get rid of the dangers they posed.

But he didn’t.

And as the he finally found himself back in uniform, Marco made his way to the navigators offices. Shaking his head, the pushed away the invading thoughts and poured himself back into his work as a navigator. Their destination was the red line where they would drop off Marco for his final flight back to Marineford. Sengoku himself had requested Marco’s debriefing back at headquarters, and Marco was not about to disobey a direct order from the fleet Admiral himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a short update today, but an update nonetheless! I'm sorry for the wait and the lack of length!
> 
> I wanted to reassure you all that I am still here and I don't plan on abandoning this fic either! But as I was working on my bachelors-degree, the world kinda ended for a minute. With my final exam handed in, I can do nothing but wait for my grade, so I might as well get back to work on my fic, right? 
> 
> I hope you all are staying safe and healthy in these trying times! Don't forget to love each other! Also, spoiler warning in the comments if you are not up to date with chapter 982 of the manga. I expect that there might be some spoilers there if everyone else is freaking out as much as I am.


	8. New beginnings

Fleet Admiral Sengoku was not happy when Marco finished explaining where he had been since he had been presumed dead after the attack. When Captain Shu had called for backup, declaring that his ship was attacked and destroyed by the second division of the Whitebeard pirates, Sengoku had been expecting some severe damages. Fire Fist was known for collateral damages after all. However it had come as a surprise to hear that the attack had cost the marines a skilled instructor. According to Captain Shu, Marco had ignored the orders to fall back in a pitiful attempt to either gain personal glory by taking down Fire Fist or he had tried to sabotage his captain by making the higher ups believe Shu started fight’s he couldn't win. 

Sengoku had believed the Captain’s explanation that far. Many marines became disillusioned with personal glory or achievements after years of service. It was an unfortunate reality, but Sengoku had accepted it years ago. But then Captain Shu mentioned how Marco had been knocked into the sea when he failed to notice the knock-up stream beneath their ship, despite the warnings of the other navigators. 

The Fleet Admiral had seen this particular navigator in action during a voyage into the new world a few years back. Back then he had been stunned at the man's ability to observe the weather around him in the middle of a chaotic battle, saving the ship he was serving on from a sudden whirlpool that had swallowed their opponents.

Sengoku had recognised the talent in the man and had personally requested for him to become an instructor in the hopes of educating the next generation of New World Marines. There was no way this navigator had failed to notice a knock-up stream that the trainee navigators noticed. Yet despite his doubts around Shu’s story, Marco was confirmed missing in action and presumed dead due to his fruit rendering him nothing more than an anchor in the water.

After reporting about their disastrous encounter with the second division, Captain Shu and the crew had returned to Marineford where they had been properly debriefed. Marco’s navigational experience would be a lot harder to replace than a simple ship, so without any navigational instructor to guide them the navigators had been dispatched to other vessels in Paradise. 

Captain Shu had been offended when Sengoku ordered him to take command of a battleship and head to Paradise himself, but Sengoku had not given him the opportunity to complain, sending him out of his office to get back to his paperwork.

Now, several days later, the presumed dead marine was miraculously standing in his office, claiming he had been captured by none other than whitebeard himself, yet somehow managed to escape because of infighting amongst the crew. Sengoku didn’t believe it for a second. Edward Newgate had sailed the seas for as long as Sengoku himself had been a marine. The Fleet Admiral knew better than anyone just how disturbingly loyal his crewmates, his “sons”, were.

This was not even the first time he had listened to Marco stand in his office and explain himself because of alleged involvement with one of the pirate emperors. however the last time it had been because of his apparent familiarity with Red hair Shanks. Back then it had simply been rumours and hearsay, now Marco himself were making the claims. 

Yet despite all the doubt and suspicion surrounding his disappearance, Marco’s recolection matched up with the marine intel from around the world. A new pirate crew known as the Blackbeard Pirates had appeared in paradise a few days ago, and Marco’s description of the traitorous pirate “Teach” matched the description of this Blackbeard character. In addition, Marco’s report of the location on the Moby Dick, and the aledged search for an antidote to the poisoning attempt made at the 4th division commander were also confirmed by multiple marine inteligence agents. 

The only things that didn’t add up was why Newgate would want keep this Marine as a captive, and how this marine lieutenant managed to escape from the whitebeard pirates if they truly wanted him captured. No, Marco was hiding something, and Sengoku intended to find out what. And considering the suspicious reports from Captain Shu there was the real possibility that the two were colluding on something. No, Sengoku needed to keep a closer eye on these marines to figure out what was really going on.

“For your own safety, and the safety of everyone around you I am going to be reassigning you back to paradise.” Sengoku spoke with absolute authority when he addressed the Navigator. It would be a shame to lose his skills in the New world, but the way things were going Sengoku wanted Marco as far away from any emperor as possible.

“Fleet admiral sir, my speciality is new world navigation.” The lieutenant stated as if Sengoku didn’t already know it. “I believe it would be a waste of resources to send be to a place like paradise.” 

“It will be an even greater waste of our resources to have our ships constantly targeted by emperors simply because they have an interest in the navigator.” At that comment Sengoku noticed Marco’s mask of indifference slip for just a split second and give way to frustration. 

“With all due respect sir, there would be no reason for any emperor to-” 

“We both know what this looks like Marco” Sengoku interrupted and the navigator stiffened before him. “You have ties to both Whitebeard and Red Hair, and if your captain is to be believed then your loyalties are dubious at best. If I were to order your arrest for treason no one would object.” The fear that flickered across Marco’s face was unmistakable, but just as quickly as it appeared it disappeared back behind Marco’s mask. Perhaps he was scared that his partner in crime had sold him out and blown his cover, Sengoku mused. He would figure out what the two of them were hiding.

“However, I would much rather make use your skills as an instructor somewhere else than to toss you in Impel down and let you waste away.” Sengoku turned his back to the marine and made his way back to his desk to look over some paperwork one more time. If he made Marco believe he was on a loose leash, he might just incriminate whoever else was involved in this. “That is why I’m leaving Garp in charge of you. He has some promising new recruits that need help with their haki training.”

They both knew that was a lie. They both knew that Garp was more than capable of teaching new recruits about Haki. But Garp would hopefully be enough of a deterrent to both Marco and potential emperors from trying anything funny. And since Garp’s madness was easy to mistake for carelessness, it might just give Marco the false sense of security he needed to be careless and implicate his allies. Sengoku didn’t have the time to worry about individuals going rouge and starting unnecessary conflicts. He was busy enough keeping the fine balance between the world government and total pirate anarchy. 

He was growing to old for this shit.

As Marco’s feet left the gangplank and he felt the Battleship beneath him he scanned the deck of his new home. Marco's new crewmates rushed around the ship, preparing for their departure back onto the sea of Paradise. They worked well together, quickly securing the deck for departure and unfurling the sails according to the orders of the navigator who barked orders from the back of the deck. They were quick, organised and jovial.

They would never have made it in the new world like this. They were quick, but Marco could spot a few newer recruits who didn’t pull their weight quite quickly enough. Orders were repeated as some of the marines didn’t catch it the first time around. A few of the more seasoned sailors were also slacking off, leaving the hard work to the more inexperienced kids running around. 

Sighing heavily Marco shook his head. He had spent most of his life sailing and flying across the new world. The constant vigilance it required had become second nature to him, and watching these unqualified sailors prepare to set sail left him on edge. Of course, sailing in Paradise was challenging, but it didn’t require the same split second reactions Marco drilled into his own students. 

“What are you so glum about!?” The loud voice of Vice Admiral Garp echoed across deck as the man spotted Marco scowling by the gangplank and began to make his way towards him. Garp was a legendary figure in the marines. He had been one of the few marines to fight the Pirate king and live to tell the tale more than once. Most people had been smart enough not to fight him after their first loss. 

A small defencive voice in the back of Marco’s mind whispered that Whitebeard also fought Roger on several occasions. Forcing those thoughts back down, Marco focused back on his new commanding officer. He didn’t have time to analyse that defensiveness, and he frankly didn’t want to start unraveling that tangled mess of emotions that he had shoved down into a dark corner of his mind.

“Nothing Vice Admiral Sir. I’m simply observing the crew.” Keeping his face and voice blank, Marco tried his best not to get off on a bad to a bad start with his new commander. According to Sengoku, Captain Shu had been transferred to paradise as additional firepower as soon as Marco was reported dead. Without Marco’s navigational expertise, Shu’s ship full of trainees had been left unprepared for the new world and their mission had been canceled. That meant that Marco would be stuck with this new Vice Admiral until Shu’s ship and crew were free to return to the new world.

Marco was ripped from his thoughts as a big hand slapped his back in what was probably supposed to be a supportive gesture, despite knocking him breathless. The vice admiral let out a rough laugh as Marco did his best not to flinch at the overly friendly gesture.

“They are pretty good aren’t they? They crossed over the calm belt from East blue two weeks ago and they are already sailing like grand line marines!” The wide grin that covered his face seemed to grow impossibly wider as his proud voice echoed to loud right next to Marco. “And drop the title kiddo. I’m only Vice Admiral Sir to new recruits, not seasoned New world marines.”

Frowning slightly at the nickname of “kiddo”, Marco elected not to push the matter. Don’t start fights with authority figures. Those never end well. Looking back across the crew, Marco had to admit he was a little impressed. If this was East blue marines that only recently crossed into the grand line then there might just be hope for them. Their navigator had read the wind properly and the crew had gotten the ship ready quickly enough to be able to make use of it to leave port.

As the gangplank was removed and the ship finally left the docks of Marineford, Marco silently observed the helmsman deftly maneuver the ship through the busy waters. The Vice admiral stood silently besides him and let his crew handle themselves. He clearly trusted his men to handle themselves and take care of the ship. As they finally left Marineford behind them, Marco felt his shoulders relax just a little as he turned to face his superior. 

“Garp Sir, I was told you were in need of someone to provide your new recruits with Haki training.” It was only after he said it that Marco realised just how condescending that might sound. He had just implied that the Vice admiral was incapable of training his own men. He had just insulted his superior officer in their first damn conversation. 

“Is that what the old idiot’s excuse was?” Garp laughed as he pulled a bag of some kind of cookies from his coat and starter munching. He didn’t seem to be offended, but Marco was not about to let his guard down. There were many good actors in the marines.

“Sengoku is a paranoid desk worker. He needs to get back on a ship and sail for a while.” Marco did a double take to make sure he hadn’t misheard the Vice Admiral as he stuffed his face with cookies. He had just insulted the fleet admiral like it was no big deal. 

“He thinks that if old Newgate really want to get to you, I would be enough to dissuade him.” The wide grin that covered the Vice admiral’s face was almost unnerving. “That only proves that Sengoku have been at his desk long enough to forget who Newgate is. Isn’t that right kiddo?”

Marco felt his heart speed up as he was put in a dangerous position. If he agreed that Sengoku was wrong about Whitebeard it would imply he doubted the fleet admirals judgement. If he disagreed and claimed Whitebeard wouldn’t care, then he would be disagreeing with his commanding officer. Swallowing thickly Marco cleared his throat and readjusted the grip on the small satchel across his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t know Sir. I barely met the guy.” It sounded like a bad lie even to himself, but Vice Admiral Garp only laughed and ate another handful of cookies. Building his courage and taking a gamble, Marco continued “But my name is Marco, not kiddo.”

“Yeah yeah kiddo. Go put your stuff below deck and come back up.” Swallowing the last of his cookies Garp scanned the marines who rushed around the deck. “If Sengoku wants you to be my assistant trainer then I’ll put you to work!” And with those words the imposing marine marched, probably off in search of either the poor marines marco would be teaching or another batch of snacks.

Marco was slightly taken aback by the casual questioning of the marine, but he knew how to follow orders. Making his way below deck, Marco nodded politely at the various marines that wandered the halls. The layout of a marine battleship was usually the same from ship to ship, but Garp’s ship was something else. Endless storage rooms filled with cannonballs of all sizes filled the hull of the ship, and the mess hall was bigger than technically necessary. 

After finally finding the sleeping quarters, Marco put the small satchel of clothes in an unclaimed chest in a corner. A few marines were holding a quiet conversation in a corner while the nightwatch were sleeping in some of the hammocks. There were a few small pot-holes along the walls, but they were probably to small to function as escape routes. If he was willing to dislocate a shoulder, he could maybe squeeze out, but he would not be able to make a quick escape. 

Leaving his few worldly possessions behind Marco made his way back up on deck, making sure to memorise the route and count the steps as he walked the halls. He would probably take watch in the crow’s nest for a few nights just to be able to keep an eye on his new crewmates during the night. Or perhaps he could manage to get access to the navigator’s office and spend his time there.

As Marco opened the doors that lead out to the deck he was immediately met with the cool edge of some sort of curved blade flying towards his face. His body reacted far quicker than his mind, ducking below the blade as his left hand shot up to grab out of the air. Spinning the blade in his hand and dropping into a battle stance, Marco let his observation Haki flow across the deck, searching for the threat. His heart was beating quickly as Marco’s eyes fell on the three men in the middle of the deck.

Garp stood over two downed marines, looking like he hadn’t even worked up a sweat. The taller of the recruits, a blonde kid, was lying on his back, still holding an identical blade to the one Marco now held. The other kid looked like he had been in the middle of getting back up from the floor just as the three men had frozen at the sight of Marco. All three of them were staring at Marco from where he had suddenly made his entrance.

The silence that enveloped the deck seemed to last for minutes, but just as suddenly as the blade had flown towards him Marco’s heart gave a sluggish beat in his chest, throwing off the rhythm and causing Marco to stumble and grab the door frame for support. As Marco moved, the two young marines sprung to their feet and rushed over to him. Quickly straightening his back and regaining his balance, Marco was almost pushed back through the door as the two Marines barely managed to stop before slamming into him.

Marco was immediately drowned in a chorus of “Are you alright?!” and “W-we are so sorry!” as the young men frantically apologise and bowed before him. Briefly lifting his head to meet Garp’s gaze, Marco noted that the Vice Admiral at least had the decency to look sheepish. Taking a step back and holding out the curved blade, a kukri, to the blonde marine.

“Stop apologising.” He said flatly, leveling the kids in front of him with his most unimpressed glare. “Just don’t do it again. If your sparing is a danger to your crewmates, you have neither control of you strength or awareness of your surroundings.” As the blonde man took the blade from Marco’s hands, the pink haired kid pushed a pair of enormous glasses down onto his face. 

“But you were amazing. Dodging a projectile on that short of a notice after Sir Garp sent it flying and even managing to catch it out of the air and use it yourself! Your reflexes are amazing Marco Sir!” As countless words flooded from the kids excited face, Marco felt more and more out of place. Awkwardly stepping around the kid, Marco made his way out onto the deck. He always felt better under the open sky, and the tickle of his flames still licked at his heart. 

It was becoming more and more rare, but the sluggish half-beats still took him by surprise if his heart rate spiked. But his powers could handle it. He could probably handle it far better himself than any doctor could anyways. Doctors had a hard time examining a constantly healing body. Even something simple like taking blood-samples were next to impossible to get without first chaining Marco with seastone, something the marine refused to even consider.

Intending to find a silent spot on deck and calm his heart Marco began heading for the railing. Marco barely made it three steps across the deck before the kid was back at his side. Marco just wanted some peace and personal space, but the kid kept asking endless questions about his training, his strengths and weaknesses, his skills, goals and ambitions, dreams-

Blue fire enveloped Marco before he even considered the repercussions. Launching himself straight upwards in his hybrid form, Marco gracefully landed on the lowest spar of the sail and transformed back into his human form. What in the world was he doing? He had managed to keep his powers hidden and private for Months when he sailed the New world, but here in the grand line he lasted maybe 20 minutes before he put on a fucking show.

Sitting down on the horizontal beam Marco felt the reassuring beating of his heart in his chest as he looked down on the marines below him. The blonde marine was openly staring at him, but he was nothing compared to the pink haired kid whose jaw hit the floor as he stared at the point where Marco had just stood. Marco briefly wondered if he should just dive into the sea. Just let the dark sea swallow him and end his suffering.

“You scared the poor man Koby!” Garp’s words almost drowned in his laughter as the old marine called out across the deck. The reaction was immediate as a blush covered the pink haired kid’s face. Koby looked up at where Marco was perched and began another round of apologies. Marco was about to just accept defeat and resign himself to just staying out of the kid’s reach when the blonde kid with the blades interrupted the apologies with some form of snide remark, causing Koby’s attention to turn back to his sparring partner.

The two kids bickered amongst themselves for a moment, and Marco took the opportunity to drop back down and report back to his commanding officer like he was supposed to do. Silently sliding up to Garp’s left side, Marco followed the marine’s gaze as the two kids kept arguing.

“Are those the ones I’m supposed to help you train?” Marco didn’t intend to sound as disapproving as he did, but watching the arguing turn to sparring, he had to admit that he was not prepared to train such greenhorns. He was used to train navigators who had already mastered sailing in paradise. These kids had barely left East blue and were horribly unprepared for an encounter with a real pirate.

“Yeah that’s them.” Garp’s voice was filled with what Marco could only identify as pride as he watched his students beat each other up. “Today you are free to just observe their training to figure out where you need to start your Haki training. While you do that, I’m going to show them how to properly throw a punch.” And with a wide grin, the mad old man rushed forwards to join the now terrified kids’ fight.

Watching the one sided brawl, Marco noted that the other crew members barely paid it any mind. This madness was normal to them, just like the madness of Fire fist and Thatch was just another day for the other unfortunate whitebeard pirates who had to deal with them.

Shaking the thoughts of firefist from his mind, Marco focused back on his current predicament. Most of the marines seemed to be relatively new at their job. Marco could probably take most of them down if things turned back. 

Garp however would prove to be a challenge. The best solution would be to avoid direct confrontation, but Marco still didn't know what Fleet Admiral Sengoku had told the man. There still was the possibility that Garp had other orders that Marco didn't know about. 

The kids were thrown to the deck only to push themselves back up and rush back into the fight. They lacked a lot of strength and awareness if they wanted to survive alone on the grand line, but they had spirit. Marco recognised the fire in their eyes as they threw themselves into the fight. 

Sighing and sitting down on the railing, Marco kept his eyes on the fight as he let his Haki swamp the deck. The hair on his neck strained at every minute movement of every marine on the ship as Marco did his best to keep his cool. He had orders, observe the fight, analyse their weakness and prepare to train the kids in using their Haki. For a split second, Marco imagined a freckled face, grinning as he caught a potato, but he shook it off. 

He had his orders. All he needed to do was to stop thinking and follow them. He had done it before, and he could do it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have 2 types of updates. the fist one is the "Hi I'm still alive despite not posing in like 4 months!" update. The other type of update is the "I'm just as surprised as you" update where I write an entire chapter in the span of 48 hours and end up hating myself as I decide to write and not sleep.
> 
> This one is the second kind of update.
> 
> Surprise.


	9. Routine

The rest of Marco’s first week aboard Vice Admiral Garp's ship passed by peacefully. The kids, Koby and Helmeppo had only managed to last about an hour sparing against the Vice Admiral, before they were panting heavily, unable to get back on their feet as their opponent laughed heartily.

During their fight Marco had gotten a pretty solid understanding of their weaknesses and strengths. Neither of them showed any knowledge of or mastery of either observation or armament haki. Marco would probably prioritise teaching them some observation haki as they kept stumbling into each other during the fight.

The blonde kid, Helmeppo, was skilled with his blades but he still had obvious tells and wide swings that made the blades easy to predict and counter. He also had a tendency to position himself in the way of Koby’s attacks as his movements and footwork was wild and unpredictable. 

The pink-haired kid, Koby, was quick and when he did manage to land a hit, Marco had been surprised at the strength behind his unarmed attack. But whenever he pulled back or circled the enemy he left way too much space between him and his opponent. More than once Garp had been able to dodge attacks that would have connected if the kid hadn’t needed to charge towards him first. And the few times when Koby did manage to maintain a suitable distance from the vice admiral, he ended up crashing into his partner, not sensing the unruly Helmeppo coming up beside him.

The kids were rough, barely functioning as a unit and tripped each other up just as much as they helped each other out, but they had spirit. Marco had watched in silent amazement as the pair pushed themselves up time and time again, only for Garp to knock them back down. By the end of the sparring, both kids had been panting heavily and swaying on their feet as they refused to back down. Reluctantly Marco had to admit that if the kids had working spirits like that, training them shouldn’t be too difficult. 

What proved to be more challenging however was trusting the navigators to do their job. In the first three days, Marco had to actively stop himself from giving them orders at least nine times. The navigator team was not bad at their duties, but they were not up to New world standards. Two of the five Navigators were experienced when it came to sailing Paradise, while the remaining three consisted of navigators from east and south blue, still being trained to handle the Grand line. More than once Marco had seen a storm coming over an hour before the navigators predicted it and began preparing. But Marco was here as a Haki-instructor, not a navigator. 

He had learned long ago not to take command and bark orders where he had no authority. He didn’t actually know how Vice Admiral Garp would react and what kind of disciplinary actions he would hand out, but Marco was not about to test it. Captain Shu had always been upfront about his opinions on Marco, and while Marco didn’t particularly enjoy their time together, he almost found it preferable to the uncertainty that was Vice Admiral Garp.

Marco was baffled at just how hard it was to read the man. No matter what he did, Garp had a big grin on his face that overshadowed all the small tells Marco could normally pick up on, leaving the navigator clueless as to what the Vice Admiral actually meant. It left Marco feeling like he had lost one of his senses. Marco felt more vulnerable than he would have liked.

The only thing he could confidently do was follow his orders. He had been given the orders to train the two recruits in Haki, and that was what he would do. From his second day on the ship and onwards, Marco would spend a couple of hours every day explaining, demonstrating, and coaching the kids in Haki, with a focus on observation haki to improve their spatial awareness during combat.

The lessons themselves were not too difficult. The kids were good students, clinging to every word that Marco spoke, desperate to learn more. However the pink haired kid, Koby, had an uncanny ability to always ask questions. The kid had asked everything from innocent but personal questions like “Where are you from?” and “Do you have any siblings?” to more digging questions like “Is it true you were captured by Whitebeard?”. 

Marco was starting to grow suspicious that the kid had orders to establish some form of trust with Marco and use it to dig for information. After all, why else would the kid be digging for information? Needless to say, Marco remained professional yet distant when instructing his new students. The last thing he needed was for his loyalties to be further questioned because of some careless smalltalk.

Yet despite his best efforts, it was his 6th day on the ship when Marco was placed on nightwatch along with Koby. Unable to relax as he dreaded the inevitable barrage of leading questions, Marco spent the afternoon pacing the ship. When the time for his nightwatch came to begin, Marco had steeled himself and climbed the mast before he settled in the crow’s nest. 

Before long, he was joined by Koby, as the young Marine climbed into the crowsnest. However, Marco was quickly struck by the kid’s unusual quiet. While Koby kept his eyes on the horizon, his gaze was somewhere far away as he badly hid his emotions. Something had the kid excited, and he was trying to hide it.

Initially Marco appreciated the lack of questions and the quiet night, but after an hour of watching the kid almost shake with suppressed glee, the Navigator let out a heavy sigh and broke the silence. 

“Are you going to tell me what has you so excited that you can’t focus on keeping watch?” Marco made sure to keep his voice light and teasing as he met Koby’s surprised gaze. The boy stammered for a second before he seemingly came to a decision and met Marco’s eyes with proud determination.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Koby almost whispered as he reached into his bag and pulled out a folded piece of paper, “but this came with the Mail-gull during dinner.” 

Unfolding the paper and turning it to show Marco, a familiar grinn met Marco. Monkey D. Luffy was obviously younger than his brother and he lacked the curls and the freckles, but it was hard to deny that he and Fire Fist Ace shared the same infectious smile. Under the picture was the bounty of 30 000 000beli, one of the biggest bounties to come out of East Blue in recent years.

“Luffy helped me out in the past.” Koby spoke with such admiration and sincerity that Marco couldn't help but believe the kid. “I was captured by bad pirates, but he saved me and helped me join the marines. Without him I would still be slaving away in east blue.” Marco couldn’t help the soft smile that tugged at his lips as Koby reminissed. 

“I’m just happy that he is doing well.” It took a few more seconds of silence before Koby seemingly realised he had just told his superior that he sympathizes with and hoped for the wellbeing of a pirate. Pulling the wanted poster back and quickly folding it, Koby attempted to hide it back in his small bag while stuttering.

“O-of course I don’t want pirates to pillage and steal! It’s just- Luffy helped me- and I.. err...” As Koby continued spewing unfinished arguments, Marco let out a soft laugh. 

“Don’t worry kid. I won’t tell anyone.” Despite his best efforts not to give Koby any information he could possibly use against him, Marco couldn't help but assure the kid. He didn’t know why, but he wholeheartedly believed that Koby’s enthusiasm and sincerity was genuine. 

Giving Koby’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze Marco continued. “I don’t think there is a single marine in the new world who has not worked together with pirates at some point.” While he could imagine a few Marines that would rather die than cooperate with a pirate, Marco had met many marines who had swallowed their idea of justice and teamed up with pirates to survive the new world. 

“Really?” A small smile grew on Koby’s face as he spoke. Marco worldlessy replied with a smile and a nod, before the pair fell back into a comfortable silence. It was a clear night with a full moon, making their job of keeping watch simple. The sea was still like a mirror, reflecting the countless stars above them.

“Mr. Marco sir, is it true that you have been to the New world?” Barely hidden excitement flickered across the kids face as he broke the silence. Watching a lone cloud lasily drift by above them Marco replied.

“Yeah. I grew up there.” Marco spoke quietly. “I haven’t been back to Paradise in years.”

“Paradise?” Koby’s questioning tone brought Marco’s eyes back down to the confused kid. Of course the kid didn’t know about the Grand Line’s nickname, he was a greenhorn from East blue. The weather of the grand line was probably still terrifying to him.

“It’s a nickname for the first half of the Grand line. They say that once you have sailed in the new world, the rest of the Grand Line will feel like a paradise to you.” Marco explained, watching the kid absorb his words like they were ancient wisdom. He went quiet for a little while as he mulled the words over. Marco could almost see the gears turning in his head.

“Then this must be pretty boring for someone like you Mr. Marco Sir…” The kid didn’t seem to notice as he muttered out loud, but Marco couldn’t help the startled bark of laughter that forced itself out of his lungs. As the kid began sputtering a confused apology, Marco waved him off and grinned at the kid. 

“First off all, call me Marco. I’m no mister and I’m not a Sir.” Marco’s statement almost triggered another round of apologies but the navigator cut him off. 

“Secondly, I don’t think I have ever heard anyone describe the grand line as boring, much less a greenhorn from East blue.” Standing up on the railing of the crowsnest and ignoring the concerned cries of Koby, Marco closed his eyes and let the calm wind of Paradise caress him.

Perhaps the kid was right. The lazy winds and slow pace of their sailing these last 6 days had been far calmer than the calmest day in the new world. The worst storms of paradise were just the same as a normal day in the new world after all. Marco could probably have sailed the ship on his own if it was necessary, or he could have easily just flown across the calm seas of paradise. The winds were easy to predict, and even easier to catch beneath his wings, not to mention that the magnetic fields of the islands were stronger, making them easier to sense with his animalistic instincts.

Koby was stuttering a mixture between apologies and explanations as he tried in vain to apologise for offending Marco, but the navigator just waved him off again. As the kid kept stuttering endless apologies, Marco stepped down from the railing and placed a hand on the kid’s shoulder again, giving it a light squeeze. As the kid finally fell quiet, Marco tried to remind himself that Koby was most likely a spy who was digging for information. It would be a really bad idea to get emotionally attached to him. 

“There’s nothing to apologise for kid, so don’t worry about it.” Marco didn’t manage to hide the fondness in his voice as he sat back down in the crowsnest. The pair sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching a school of whales breach the water. Marco briefly wondered if one of them would be white like the Moby Dick had been. Thatch had said that Ace would have to head back to paradise to get a new ship for the 2nd division. A small smile tugged at Marco’s lips as he imagined Ace finally getting his brother’s wanted poster. Hopefully the kid wouldn’t start a fire while he was celebrating.

“Hey Marco?” Koby’s voice was hesitant as both marines kept their eyes on the horizon. “Why did you join the marines?” Tearing his gaze from the whales, Marco turned to meet the genuine and curious eyes of Koby. He really shouldn’t share anything about himself with the kid, but those eyes filled with wonder and curiosity were oddly nostalgic. The awkward yet genuine smile on the kids face tugged slightly at Marco’s heartstrings.. Nostalgia was not a feeling Marco often indulged in, but he felt a small smile tug at his lips as he turned back to look at the horizon.

“My parents were traveling merchants in the New world, so I grew up on a merchant ship.” Marco did his best not to let his mind wander, but it was difficult to avoid the memories of his family. They had been a jovial bunch, skillfully navigating the New World to bring supplies between them many islands.There had always been music and Marco had always been playing stupid games with the other kids.

“We were peaceful traders, until one day a bunch pirates decided they wanted our wares.” The soft smile fell from Marco’s lips as he neglected to tell Koby about how the pirates were after the ability of his devilsfruit. He still remembered how the sounds of thunder had mixed with the terrible sound of cannons. How even the wind had seemed to fight against him as he fled. How he had desperately searched for the Marines they had passed a day earlier.

“When the marines arrived, they saved what remained of the crew and took us to the closest island. They gave us protection, they gave us food and shelter, and at the end, they offered me the chance of helping others like they had helped me.” Marco still remembered the kind words of the now retired officer who had welcomed him to the marines. The man had sat down next to the crying child on the docks and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. As what remained of Marco’s crew left him behind, the marine had offered him a place in his family instead. Pulling his mind back from those long buried memories, Marco turned back to look at Koby.

“I joined the Marines to protect the people who can’t protect themselves against pirates and criminals.” Koby’s expression was one of recognition. It was the face of someone who understood, perhaps not fully, but enough to relate to what Marco was saying. They sat in silence for a moment before Koby spoke with uncharacteristic determination,

“I want to be strong enough to protect the weak too.” And despite himself, Marco could not help himself but believe that the kid would succeed. Letting a small smile grace his lips, Marco met Koby’ determined eyes. 

“Well then,” Marco smiled. ”How about we use the time to practice your haki?” 

The nightwatch and Haki training had quickly become a routine. Three times per week the pair would be stuck in the crowsnest together, and Marco spent that time teaching Koby how to use his Haki to sense the presence of others. He would ask Koby how many people he could sense in the kitchens, and the kid would reply with what he thought was the correct number. Whenever he did get the right number, Marco would reward him by answering a question about the new world. The questions were never about Marco directly, rather different variations of “Is it true that it can hail frogs?” or “What was the prettiest island you ever went to?”. Marco would answer the questions carefully, not revealing anything confidential or personal, but Koby seemed satisfied to just listen about the wonders of the New World.

Marco had few duties during the day, only being in charge of the few hours of Haki training that his two students managed to fit into their busy schedule of chores and physical training.  
The remainder of the days Marco had spent perched on the mast, desperately trying not to worry about the navigators. But after a week of the individual training, Helmeppo caught wind of Koby’s individual training and started demanding his own extra training. 

Thus Marco’s new routine consisted of sleeping until midday, spending 2 hours training the kids in haki and then spending 6 nights a week training them separately. The 3 nights Marco had insisted on taking the nightwatch he would train Koby in observation haki, and every other night he would spend down on the deck, dueling Helmeppo and pushing him to master armament Haki. It was hard, draining work, but nobody could deny that it produced results. At the end of the second week Helmeppo and Koby actually managed to land a few solid hits on Vice Admiral Garp during their sparring. Of course, as soon as the Vice Admiral had stopped holding back against the kids he had beaten them in a matter of seconds, but the proud smile and booming laugh told Marco that the Vice Admiral thoroughly enjoyed and approved of their progress.

Marco still found Garp to be unnerving, but his busy nightly schedule provided Marco the perfect excuse to avoid him along with the rest of the crew. The only people Marco really interacted with were the poor men who had the nightwatch during his sparring sessions with Helmeppo, a few of the navigators, and the kindly chef who always had a cup of coffee prepared when Marco woke, despite Marco’s insistence that the caffeine did nothing for him. 

The chef insisted on Marco getting a full meal whenever he woke, and despite Marco’s insistence that it was not necessary he was always served a huge breakfast. Marco would even have to politely decline when the chef asked him if he wanted seconds. Not sleeping through the night and missing a couple of meals was nothing new to him. He had been in charge of new navigators in the New World for a long time, and the storms didn’t take a break when the sun set. 

For three weeks Marco slept away the mornings and trained late into the night without incident. He even got one full night of sleep at the end of the week, and while he hated to admit it the rest did do wonders for his heart. The half-beat was a lot less common than it had been the first week, his heart only stuttering once every couple of days or when something snuck up on him. Sometimes Marco even forgot about it as he went through his daily routine, only for it to take him by surprise. But at the end of the third week the peace would come to an end.

Marco had woken early after a full night of sleep. They would be arriving at a winter island pretty early and Marco had wanted to be awake as they anchored. The island was allegedly uninhabited, but a group of traders had reported that a group of bandits had attacked them while they were restocking on the island.

Quickly putting on his warmest uniform and making his way to the galley, Marco grabbed a small breakfast and sat down in a corner. Ignoring the glances from the other crew members, Marco kept his attention on a map of the island he had borrowed from the navigators. It was a rare sight to see him eating breakfast along with the rest of the crew so he really couldn’t fault the others for glancing at him. 

His mind drifted to the haki-training. Now that they were on an island they could take advantage of the wildlife in the training exercises. Using observation Haki while hunting would also help fill up on fresh meat for the kitchen. Smiling slightly Marco hoped there were none of the huge boars he and Ace had encountered here. Was Ace keeping up the Haki training? Ace had been very diligent about it before everything went to hell, but Marco hoped the chaos didn’t lead to Ace forgetting about Haki. It was a very important skill to learn, especially for a Logia.

Shaking his head slightly, Marco realised he had left his coffee to cool down. Taking a sip of the lukewarm liquid he chastised himself for worrying about a pirate. He really shouldn’t be spending time worrying about the Haki training of the enemy while he was tasked with training his allies. And Ace was probably too busy making sure Thatch didn’t overdo anything to keep up the training anyways.

Thatch was probably healed by now. When Marco left his only wound was the remains of a shallow stab wound, and Marco just knew that the man would be back to commandeering the kitchens despite the worry of his family. Setting down the cup, Marco was about to reach for his nearly forgotten breakfast when the door to the galley burst open and violently slammed against the wall behind it.  
The fact that all eyes in the galley whipped towards the sound was Marco’s only saving grace as his heart skipped a beat and his breath caught in his lungs before his heart sluggishly got back into a rhythm.

“I am going to teach that idiot a lesson he’ll never forget!” As Marco struggled to get his breathing under control, he was stunned at the pure anger in Vice Admiral Garp’s voice. The normally hard to read man was not doing anything to hide his anger as he marched into the galley, closely followed by a cowering Koby and Helmeppo. For a brief moment Marco was terrified that the Vice Admiral was talking about him.

Had he done something to offend him? What had he told Koby last watch? Had it been incriminating? Marco’s heart sped up, skipping another beat. The faint tickling of blue fire licked at his heart as Marco frantically tried to calm down. Panicking when a superior wanted to “talk” to you was a bad idea. 

“You are all dismissed for the day. None of you are allowed to go bandit hunting today!” As Garp barked orders at the marines in the Galley he gestured wildly with a rolled up paper in his hand. As various stunned responses echoed around the room Garp slammed the paper down and stormed out pushing Koby and Helmeppo to the side. As he disappeared through the door he growled angrily. “I have to work through some frustration!” 

The stunned silence lasted perhaps five seconds before a few of the more seasoned crew started chatting merrily about how to spend their surprise day off. Marco didn’t really pay them any attention as he tried to calm his pounding heart. It had almost fallen back into a steady rhythm when the sound of someone pulling out a chair next to him startled marco back to the moment.

“Good morning Marco.” The sheepish voice of Koby called out as he sat down next to him. Marco forced his hands to stop shaking as Helmeppo sat down across the table and gave him a scrutinising look. Before the kid could say anything he was cut off by Koby.

“Are you ok Marco? You look rather pale.” Scolding his face into his normal bored mask, Marco muttered something about not sleeping well before taking another sip of his rapidly cooling coffee just to keep himself occupied. The two kids exchanged a glance giving Marco enough time to compose himself a little as he set down his cup.

“Do you know what the Vice Admiral was angry about?” Marco was proud that he managed to keep his voice steady as he spoke. Helmeppo immediately went stiff in his seat, but Koby threw a quick glance over his shoulder before he leaned in and placed something on the table. 

“He saw this arrive with the mail this morning.” As koby spoke he spread out a familiar looking wanted poster. A little confused, Marco was about to ask what Koby meant when he finally noticed the new number. Somehow Strawhat Luffy’s bounty had gone from thirty million beli to a hundred million beli in a little less than three weeks. Tearing his eyes from the poster he looked back to the faces of his students.

“What in the world did he do?” Marco shouldn’t be this surprised. The kid was the brother of Fire Fist Ace after all. Yet there was something disarming about that big innocent smile on the poster that just made the kid seem less dangerous. Koby hesitated for a second, probably searching for the correct words, only to be interrupted by Helmeppo’s forceful whisper.

“The Newspaper didn’t say, but there was a lot of talk about how Captain Smoker took down a warlord in Alabasta.” Helmeppo seemed to be trying to hold himself back from shouting, but Marco couldn’t tell if it was anger or excitement that fueled the blonde kid. Marco knew that the kid had officially joined the marines at the same time as Koby, so he might also have met Strawhat Luffy in the past. 

“It has to have been Luffy and Zoro!” Koby’s hushed whisper was filled with excitement as he pulled out another wanted poster and placed it on the table. This one showed a serious looking man with green hair and bloodstains in his face. 

“Pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro” Helmeppo whispered dramatically. “Formerly the best bounty hunter in all of east blue, now a pirate himself with a bounty of sixty million beli. One day I’ll be the one to arrest him!” Marco could practically feel the determination in Helmeppo’s hushed declaration.

“Zoro joined Luffy at the same time me and Helmeppo joined the marines. He is an incredibly skilled swordsman.” Koby’s explanation was filled with excitement. Marco frowned down at the posters.

“That doesn’t really explain why Vice Admiral Garp is so angry.” Marco did his best to keep his voice disinterested as he spoke. The two kids shared another glance before leaning in closer.

“Don’t tell anyone this,” Koby whispered. “I don’t think Garp meant to say it in front of us.” Helmeppo continued in the same hushed voice. Marco was starting to regret asking about it. He really didn’t want to end up on Garp’s bad side. but before Marco had the chance to leave the conversation, Koby finally continued.

“Garp is Luffy’s grandfather.” Marco’s brain needed a moment to process the words Koby was whispering. Vice Admiral Garp was Strawhat Luffy’s grandfather. Strawhat Luffy, the brother of Fire Fist Ace, was the grandson of Vice Admiral Garp. Was that why Sengoku had sent Marco to join Garp’s crew? Sengoku knew that Marco had clashed with Fire Fist and the 2nd division. Was this some kind of warning? A threat? Swallowing to try and wet his suddenly dry mouth, Marco met Koby and Helmeppo’s eyes. 

“That’s quite the coincidence.” Marco was quite proud that his voice showed nothing more than a little surprise when he spoke. Marco was vaguely aware that Koby quickly commented something about destiny, only for Helmeppo to add a snarky comment about it just being chance. As the two kids distracted each other Marco found the time to calm his racing mind.

This didn’t change anything. He was still a loyal marine, serving under a Vice Admiral. He had no important connection to any pirate that anyone needed to worry about. He just needed to follow orders and keep his head down until everything calmed down. 

Slowly standing from the table Marco excused himself. Koby asked him where he was going and Marco gave some excuse of needing to check up on the navigators before they anchored. As soon as he escaped the galley, Marco made his way up towards the deck. The sound of Vice Admiral Garp shouting angrily echoed down the hall from the Vice Admiral’s personal office. He was shouting at someone, most likely Bogard. Bogard was the only man brave enough to talk back to the Vice Admiral, and he was also one of the few people the Vice Admiral would actually listen to. 

Quickly making his way out under the open sky, Marco startled one of the poor crewmembers on deck by bursting into flames and launching himself up to the empty crowsnest. Transforming back into a human, Marco watched the small winter island grow on the horizon. It was already snowing lightly, small white flecks drifting from the skies.

Alone in the crowsnest Marco’s hands itched to reach for the two vivre cards that he had hidden in a small pouch sewn into the hem of his pants. Nothing good would come from looking at them now, yet he couldn’t quite stop himself. Fishing out the two pieces of paper Marco let them lay flat in his hand. Both Whitebeard’s card and Ace’s card looked fine, but they were pointed in completely different directions.

Whitebeard’s card was pointing towards the new world, but Ace’s paper kept inching in the opposite direction. Frowning Marco stared at the papers. Thatch had mentioned that the 2nd division would have to return to Paradise to get a new ship, but that still didn’t match up. Keeping directions straight in the Grand Line was difficult, but Marco had years of training. Ace’s card was not pointing towards Water 7, but rather in the direction of Reverse Mountain. There was no way that Thatch had been allowed out of Whitebeard's sight just yet, but he couldn't imagine Ace leave him behind either. Not unless Ace was doing something more important than keeping Thatch safe. Not unless he...

Quickly shoving the slips of paper back into the hidden pocket Marco shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind. He needed to get a handle on his damn emotions. He shouldn't worry about pirates or their relatives or anything of the sort. He was going to spend the day hunting, training the kids in haki and staying out of the Vice Admiral’s way as he took care of the alleged bandits. Ace could take care of himself. Marco didn't need to worry about him. He just needed to remain calm and keep focused. 

But as the ship approached the shore of the frozen island Marco couldn't help but feel the vivre card tug towards Ace. And while Marco's hands remained at his side, he couldn't quite stop his mind from wandering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this Chapter has been a pain to write. I struggled for a month to write it while working this summer but i ended up taking a long break from writing to do more work and earn some money.
> 
> Well, I spent my summer at home with my parents and started a new course at university this fall. Then, when I picked up the story again I realised that everything i had written for this chapter was trash and I rewrote it all. Then after a week I reread it and realised I needed to rework my entire plan in order to get an interesting continuation of the story. So I wrote a new outline and rewrote the chapter again. 
> 
> That chapter felt rushed and disjointed, so here is my final rewrite. I'm sorry that it's such a "boring" chapter where not a lot happens, but I just need to get it out of the way and move on!
> 
> Shout out to all you wonderful people who have left comments on the rest of the story. Those comments have motivated me to keep writing this chapter despite how hard I found it! From the bottom of my heart: Thank you!


	10. Emotional storms

Heavy snowflakes flurried through the air around Marco as he sat perched on the railing of the crow’s nest. 

As the marine battleship anchored they were still pretty far away from the shore of the winter island, but a thick layer of ice stretched all the way to the rocky shore of the island, preventing the ship from approaching any further. 

As the head helmsman and the shipwrights were assessing the danger of pushing on ahed, they were interrupted by the sound of Vice Admiral angrily stomping his way onto the deck. From his position in the crowsnest Marco didn't hear what was said between the helmsman and the Vice Admiral, but after barely five minutes on deck Garp simply turned around and disappeared below deck again. 

Marco looked on in confusion as the helmsman and shipwrights began to prepare the smaller rowboats for departure. They would not be able to break through the ice with the small boats, so it would probably be safer to traverse the ice on foot than trying to break through it. Letting himself gracefully fall from the crowsnest, Marco startled one of the shipwrights by landing right next to him. 

Giving the startled shipwright an apologetic nod, Marco turned to find the helmsman along the railing.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think the rowboat is going to be able to break through the ice.” The scruffy sailor turned away from his work as Marco addressed him. “Would it not be safer to traverse the ice by foot than to add the additional weight of a boat?”

For a second the helmsman regarded Marco before realisation dawned on his face. “Oh, yer that new guy! Yer havn’t seen Cap’n Garp work his magic yet hav ya?” A wide grin split the man’s face as his raspy voice echoed loudly across the deck. “Don’t worry, ye’ll get a front row view today!”

As soon as the helmsman finished talking, the sounds of Vice Admiral Garp’s heavy footsteps returned to the deck. Turning to face the Vice Admiral, Marco saw the man carrying a rack of heavy cannonballs in his left hand as the familiar silhouette of Bogard’s grey suit followed closely behind him.

A big hand landed on Marco’s shoulder as the helmsman carefully nudged Marco out of the way as the angry Vice Admiral marched towards the railing. Giving the helmsman an appreciative nod, Marco watched as Vice Admiral Garp pulled out one of the cannonballs in one smooth motion. It was almost terrifying how easily Garp juggled the heavy iron ball from one hand to the other like it weighed almost nothing. For a brief moment Garp paused as he took aim, the snow drifting lazily around them on the calm wind.

Despite looking directly at the Vice Admiral, Marco could barely follow Garp’s hands as he launched the cannonball towards the small island. By the time Marco turned his head to follow the projectile it was crashing into the ice, shattering it like it was paper thin. The crater in the ice was more than wide enough for a rowboat to row through, but it was far from long enough to reach the shore. 

Then another cannonball hit the next section of ice, and the next, and the next. Before Marco gathered his bearings the hail of cannonballs had carved a path all the way to the rocky shore. Taking a moment in stunned silence to just observe the destructive capabilities of the Vice Admiral, Marco remained by the railing until a familiar hand firmly pat his shoulder.

“There ya go, it’s quite the show, ain’t it?. No more ice to worry ‘bout.” The grinning helmsman quipped as he left Marco’s side and got back to work on the rowboats, leaving the stunned Marco by the railing next to the Vice Admiral and the exasperated Bogard. For a moment the snow drifted quietly around them as the sound of shipwrights and the helmsman preparing the three smaller rowboats.

“Marco!” The harsh and angry tone of Garp’s voice almost caused Marco’s heart to half-beat again as Marco snapped straight and stood to attention. “You have the day to train the kids. Me and Bogard will be hunting the bandits. Try to fill our food stores while you are at it. Departure in ten minutes, return by sundown.” Garp’s voice was short and pointed, and Marco immediately replied with an affirmative “Yes sir!” before taking his leave to prepare his students for departure. 

Marco quickly made his way below deck and located his students in the communal sleeping quarters where they were animatedly discussing the bounties of Roronoa and Strawhat in hushed tones. Clearing his throat to alert them to his presence, Marco noted that he would have to work on their awareness of their surroundings. Making his way over to his own chest, Marco pulled out his warmest coat and a satchel.

“Get your coats and some large sacks. We are going hunting while Vice Admiral Garp deals with the bandits.” Marco briefly felt bad that he let some of his anxiety and frustration bleed into his voice, but he turned to leave before he let himself see the expression on their faces. With a final “You leave in 6 minutes.” Marco made his way out of the room and back towards the deck.

As Marco emerged back on the deck, three boats were being lowered into the waters below them. Various crew members were gathering their supplies and going over their weaponry and equipment before they began climbing down onto the small boats. Wrapping himself in his coat and swinging his satchel across his shoulder, Marco remained by the railing just long enough to see Koby and Helmeppo emerge from below the deck before he let blue fire consume him and he took to the skies.

The flight to the shore was a welcomed escape from everyone else as Marco soared through the calm wind. Marco’s wings were a lot quicker than the oars of a boat, and by the time Marco’s talons made contact with the snow covered stones at the shore the boats were barely halfway to the shore. 

Finally getting a moment to himself, Marco transformed back into a human and sat down on one of the larger rocks. He really needed to get his emotions under control. Since this morning he had done nothing but be startled and unprepared for what was happening around him. Garp's sudden and angry entrance during breakfast had rattled him more than it should have, and ever since he had been on edge. 

Luckily all he needed to today do was take the kids out hunting. He didn’t have to talk to the Vice Admiral or the other crew members. He didn’t need to navigate contradictory orders or confusing moralities. All he needed to do was to stop thinking, and hunt some game.

As the first of the three small boats reached the shore Marco helped them land on the stony shore. The first two of the three boats each carried 10 marines who wanted to spend their day on solid ground as opposed to on their ship. By the time all of them had their feet firmly planted on the stony shore, the final boat carrying Garp, Bogard Koby and Helmeppo had reached the shore.

Vice Admiral Garp made his way onto the island as he pointedly ignored the others and began marching towards the mountains in the center of the island. An exasperated Bogard ordered the men to stay out of trouble before he set out to follow Garp’s deep trail in the snow. As the men began to split up and explore the shoreline Marco got the attention of his two students and gestured towards the woods that stretched along the shoreline. 

“We are headed for the woods.” was all Marco said before he turned and began walking towards the snow covered pine trees. The heavy snow reached all the way up to Marco’s knees as he fought his way forwards. It would be a lot easier to fly over the snow, but he didn’t have the heart to leave Koby and Helmeppo to trudge their own path.

For an agonisingly cold hour the trio made their way deeper into the pine woods. They didn’t make it particularly far into the woods, and the heavy snow made the progress slow and exhausting, but as they happened upon a small clearing Marco signaled for the kids to halt. Turning around to look at the two shivering and panting kids, Marco dropped his satchell to the ground.

“We rest for a moment, then we start hunting.” With those short words Marco made his way to the base of a tree that shielded him from the worst of the snowfall. Letting his back lean against the cold wood, Marco sat down and closed his eyes letting his Haki flood across the woods in search of potential prey. Despite the harsh environment Marco sensed quite a few woodland creatures that lived on the cold island.

Most of the creatures were small like rabbits or squirrels, and some the size of deer and elk, but further to the north Marco could sense the presence of something huge. Probably the size of the enormous boar that had been hunting Ace back on the small island they were stranded on. 

A frown tugged at his lips as Marco thought about Ace. The vivrecards were safely tucked away in his pocket, but Marco felt an itching in his hands to just check once more that Ace was not together with Whitebeard in the New World. If he ended up in trouble like most overconfident logias did he would not have an easy time. If a warlord had turned against the World government in Alabasta there was likely going to be an increase in Marine presence in Paradise. A few New world marines might even be stationed back in paradise.

“Are you alright Marco?”

Marco’s head snapped towards Koby’s voice. Somehow Marco had failed to notice the kids walking up and sitting down under the same tree as him. God he had couldn't keep being distracted and showing weakness. He had been too focused on using his haki, and being concerned about Ace, and thinking about the Marines in Paradise. Captain Shu had recently been sent to Paradise. Marco felt like the air was sucked out of his lungs.

What if Captain Shu somehow managed to trap Ace? Ace was a straightforward guy, he would not be prepared for Captain Shu’s scheming. Shu probably still held a grudge after the 2nd division burned his ship. He would not hesitate to use one of Ace’s own men against him. Or what if he found out about Ace’s brother. Shu would use Luffy against Ace and Ace would be caught. That would spark a war. Whitebeard would not stand by and watch his son rot in jail. Marco would have to fight against the Whitebeard pirates and he would have to fight Thatch and he would-

A warm hand wrapped itself around Marco’s clenched fist, warming his white knuckles. Opening his eyes and briefly wondering when he had closed them, Marco met the concerned eyes of Koby as the kid wrapped his warm fingers around Marco’s shaking ones. 

“Marco,” Helmeppo’s soft voice drew Marco’s eyes towards him. “You need to take a deep breath.” Frowning slightly Marco wondered what the kid was on about. He was breathing. He was breathing a lot. Now that he was aware of it he was breathing very quickly, but he didn’t feel like he was getting the air. But that didn’t make sense. His lungs were working perfectly. He was fully healed. He hadn’t been injured at all. He was fine. He should be fine- 

His heart skipped a beat. His heart was not fine. Oh God what was wrong with his heart? Why didn’t his heart beat? Why didn’t-

“Marco. You are panicking.” Helmeppo firmly grabbed Marco’s other hand and firmly pressed Marco’s hand to his own chest. “Try to match my breathing.” Marco felt the chest move slowly beneath his hand. Was he panicking? That made sense. It would explain the chaos in his mind and the lack of air. Helmeppo took a deep breath, and Marco tried his best to copy it. His mind was still racing as his heart skipped another breath. The kids would no doubt tell Vice Admiral Garp about this and he would decide that Marco was a liability. He would decide that Marco was not suited for future service in the New World and would send him back to Paradise permanently. Back to Captain Shu. Back to-

“Did I ever tell you how I ended up meeting Helmeppo and Luffy?” Koby’s cheery voice cut through the muddled mess of emotions and thoughts in Marco’s head. As the kid launched into a long winded story, Marco was unable to catch the words, but the stream of narration seemed to drown out his own jumbled thoughts as Marco focused on copying Helmeppo’s breathing.

Marco wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but when his breathing and thoughts calmed down enough for him to be able to listen to Koby’s story the kid had already moved on to his and Helmeppo’s training under Garp. Carefully pulling his hands free from the warmth of his students' hands Marco brought his now warm hands to his cold face. At some point tears must have left his eyes as cold streaks of frost and ice lined his cheeks.

“Are you alright Marco?” Every fiber of his being wanted to just reassure the kid that everything was fine and nothing was wrong. He shouldn’t show weakness. Captain Shu used your weakness against you. Marco wanted to hide his face in his hands, but that was disrespectful and not allowed. 

“I’m-” Marco swallowed thickly as his exhausted body sagged heavily against the tree. “I’m fine.” Marco didn’t even manage to fool himself with that reply, much less the kids. Despite the less than convincing performance, the kids gave Marco a moment peace to just collect himself. How pathetic did he look right now? There was no way to wiggle his way out of this one. They knew he was an useless failure.

The moment of peace soon turned into a charged silence. Marco didn’t know what to say. It was obvious that neither of the kids believed he was alright, but what could he say to that? No I am not ok, I’m worrying about the safety of our sworn enemy? I don’t feel safe because I keep failing my duty and I’m too much of a weakling to handle the punishment? 

No. He would be fine. He was fine. He had to be fine. He just needed to stop thinking.

“You know, I was a mess when I first joined the marines.” Koby’s normally cheerful voice was uncharacteristically somber as he met Marco’s eyes. “I thought that if I didn’t do everything perfectly the captain would hit me. Sometimes I even thought that the captain would just hit me without any reason.”

Marco wanted to look away. He wanted to hide behind his mask of indifference and get back to the mission. But as Koby spoke his eyes held such intensity that Marco couldn’t break eye contact. Marco sensed Helmeppo tensing besides him as Koby seemingly braced himself and continued.

“I thought every captain was like Lady Alvida.” 

The way Koby said her name, Marco knew. The way his eyes twitched to look around him so see if anyone was listening in. The way his entire body sensed as if he had done something wrong. The way he said the name with such well hidden disdain and hatred, and how he addressed her properly with her name and title despite said hatred. And the ways his eyes revealed the depth of the despair he had suffered.

Marco knew those feelings. 

But that meant that Koby knew Marco’s feelings. Koby understood. Marco’s face turned impossibly even paler as the silence stretched between the three of them. If Koby knew then Koby could tell someone. Koby could tell Garp, and then Sengoku would know. He would know that Marco was being insubordinate. He would know that Marco failed at almost every basic task assigned by his captain. He would know of Marco's endless weaknesses and uselessness. Everyone would know he was weak. 

But looking into Koby’s eyes, Marco didn’t believe he would tell anyone. 

Koby understood. And so did Helmeppo who sat besides them. Perhaps he didn’t understand like Koby, but he understood. He understood that Marco couldn’t tell anyone.

“Marco.” Koby spoke carefully like he was speaking to a cornered animal. Like Marco would panic and flee at the tiniest push. Marco couldn’t say that the idea of flying away hadn’t crossed his mind. Perhaps if he wasn't soo weak he would have fled and gone somewhere new. But the marines were all he knew. It was the only reminder of a home he had left.

“I was not ok when I joined the marines. Are you ok?” the pink haired kid continued

The question itself was simple enough. Yes or no. Anyone could answer that. But as Marco curled in on himself and wrapped his arms around himself, his words failed him and all he could do was a minuscule shake of the head. But it was enough. Koby and Helmeppo would see his admission of weakness. Marco didn’t know if he felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders or if he felt like a new weight was strangling him, but he was exhausted. Emotionally, and physically.

They spent quite a while in that freezing clearing in the woods. Marco didn’t say much. In fact he barely said anything at all. But he listened as Koby told him how he ended up as a slave on a pirate ship. He listened as Koby told him how Luffy saved him and brought him to a marine base. He listened as Helmeppo told him about their time in the marines. He listened as Helmeppo told him about how he found Koby trembling and terrified after the base commander had a bad day and lashed out verbally. 

Koby and Helmeppo were opening their hearts and telling him everything, yet Marco couldn’t even manage to utter Captain Shu’s name out loud. As the midday turned to afternoon, Marco began to feel a little alive again. His limbs on longer felt like they were filled with lead, and his heart beat regularly and calmly. He was still exhausted, but he no longer felt like a dead man.

The two kids insisted that the group should return to the ship, despite Marco’s protest. They had been tasked with filling the food stocks, and despite spending hours in the woods they had nothing to show for it. Returning empty handed would be going directly against Vice Admiral Garp's orders but the kids seemed to dismiss his worries.

“Garp will understand. He just had a shitty morning.” Helmeppo said as he got to his feet and brushed off most of the snow that clung to his uniform. “By the time he gets back from hunting bandits he will have forgotten about the hunting completely.” Koby nodded in agreement as he held out a hand to pull Marco to his feet. Accepting the hand Marco staggered to his feet and searched for the words needed to convince the kids. Before he could find them however it seemed like Koby read his mind yet again. 

“How about we go back, and if Garp asks about the food we tell him that me and Helmeppo were terrible at it and kept scaring the animals away.” Helmeppo began a lighthearted complaint about how he would be great at hunting and Garp would never believe such a lie but Koby kept talking over him. “Garp won’t be mad at us for trying and failing while training. Trust me Marco.”

Every nerve in Marco’s body told him to just hunt some rabbits before they left, but as he took his first steps out from below the big pinetree Marco felt his knees almost give out as they shook with cold and exhaustion. Muttering a soft “Alright.” to give Koby the affirmation he needed, the trio made their way back the way they had come before. 

Their tracks were almost hidden beneath a new layer of snow, but it was easy enough to navigate back down towards the shore. The rest of the crewmembers that had stepped foot on land were in the middle of an intense snowball battle when the trio arrived. The afternoon sun on the pure white was almost blinding to the trio that emerged from the shadow between the trees.

Marco forced his face back behind his mask of indifference and straightened his back. He was not about to show weakness and exhaustion in front of just anyone. As the trio arrived back at the shore, Koby and Helmeppo began asking around to see if anyone had news from Vice Admiral Garp. As they mingled with the jovial marines Marco looked out towards the ship. 

The three small boats were lying in the stones along the shoreline. For a moment Marco assumed that they had been pulled up from where they left them in the water, but a glance at the water revealed the truth. The ice-path that Vice Admiral Garp had carved were floating a foot above the surface of the water.

Marco kept his eyes on the edge of the water. It should be high-tide this time of the afternon. However as Marco watched the water recede out to sea he could only think of one possible explanation for the rapidly receding sea. They were located pretty close to Long Ring Long Land and by extension Water 7. Both of the places were known for their strange tides that somehow resulted in the annual enormous wave, the Aqua Laguna. If something similar was happening here then…

As the water receded even further Marco knew time was of the essence. Exhaustion forgotten, Marco turned back towards the rest of the marines on shore and began barking orders. 

“There is an enormous wave coming. You all need to get into the mountains and seek shelter. Koby, Helmeppo keep your eyes open. There are large creatures on the island that you don’t want to mess with. Now go!” Worry and badly concealed concern coated his orders as Marco tried and failed to keep his tone calm and authoritative.

Turning his back on the group, Marco was about to transform when Helmeppo’s hand grabbed his wrist. “What about you? You need to get to safety too.” For a moment Marco was surprised that nobody was questioning his judgement of the wave. They all just trusted him to tell the truth. But he didn’t have time to waste.

“The ship itself won’t survive if it gets caught up in the ice. I’m flying out to warn them and help then get in position to climb the waves.” Without delay Helmeppo let go of his wrist with a nod. “Stay safe” the young swordsman ordered before he turned and began barking orders at the other marines. 

With a swift movement Marco’s wings were rushing him back towards the ship. Their best chances would be to get as far away from the shore as possible and climb the wave head on. The wave should be less steep where the seafloor was deeper, giving the ship a bigger chance of being able to climb it without capsizing.

Landing a bit harder on the deck than he had intended, Marco watched as several of the men on the deck startled. Straightening his back and pushing away the voice that cried “insubordination” in the back of his mind, Marco scanned the deck for the helmsman. 

The moment his eyes landed on the startled man, Marco poured every ounce of authority he had left into his voice.

“There is a tsunami approaching. We need to get into deeper waters if we want to save the ship.” The stunned silence lasted two seconds before Marco got tired of waiting and pointed at two men by the railing. “You two, raise the anchor.”

“You five get the sails ready, the wind is in our favour if we act quickly.” 

“Helmsman, keep us clear of the ice. The jagged edges might damage the hull. The rest of you, secure the deck!”

One by one the people rushed into action. One of the shipwrights called out while securing the crates on deck. “What about the rest of the crew? They’s still at shore!”

“They are heading to higher ground, they are safer than us.” Marco replied loudly enough for the entire deck to hear him. “The only ones we don’t have a location on are the Vice admiral and Bogard, but they can handle themselves.” 

Continuing to direct the remainder of the crew to the tasks that needed to be done, the ship finally began to retreat away from the island and out towards deeper waters. They probably had less than three minutes by now. Rushing over to the helmsman, Marco handed the man a thick rope.

“Tie yourselves to the ship,” Marco ordered loudly as several men began tying ropes around each other. Tsunami’s rarely come alone. Like ripples in a small pond they come one after another, and the Marines would have to ride them all. “The only way to get through is to hit the waves head on, and we need to keep the ship steady through them all!” Meeting the helmsman's eyes as the man tied himself to hi post by the wheel, Marco saw the determination burn in the man's eyes.

With a thick piece of rope, Marco secured himself to the railing close to the helmsman. As he tightened the knot he heard the man mutter a soft curse. Turning around, Marco saw the first wave. 

The Grand line had a way of humbling those who thought they had conquered it. Marco had spent more time in the New World than any other sea. He had braved iceberg hails and whirlpools of burning oceans. But for just a moment as the almost vertical wave consumed the horizon Marco felt like a helpless child.

Swallowing his feelings, Marco put one hand on the shoulder of the helmsman and the other on the thick wooden railing he was tied to. For a few seconds silence fell on the deck as the marines watched the huge wave advance.

“Brace!” Marco’s shout echoed across the deck, repeated by the other men as they grasped onto the mast, railing, anything to hold them steady as the ship lurched. The ship rose almost vertically, climbing the wall of water as the roaring sea raged around them. They almost made it over the top of the wave before the wave broke and washed over the deck.

The freezing cold seawater crashed into Marco, knocking him off his feet and sending him crashing against the railing. The rope that tied him to the railing was the only thing keeping Marco from being washed overboard as the sea drained him of his strength, but before he had time to let the panic set in the ship burst out of the water.

They had made it over the wave just as it broke, seawater washing over the ship briefly but not submerging it. Staggering to his feet, Marco held onto the railing and wiped the seawater out of his eyes before he turned towards the horizon. Squinting and peering through the snow that still drifted through the air Marco could just about make out another wave rushing towards them.

Scanning the deck, he was relieved to see that the other marines were still clinging to the ship. Most of them had already gotten to their feet and had begun frantically securing the crates and other objects that had been ripped free by the wave. Marco was about to move to assist them when a searing pain clenched his chest. The mind numbing pain almost distracted the soaked marine from his own sluggish heartbeat.

Steadying himself on the railing, Marco barely felt his knees give out and hit the deck as the pain in his chest dulled his other senses. For a moment he knelt there, drenched in seawater and consumed by pain, but then he felt the familiar sensation of his flames flickering in his chest.

“Yer alright?” the helmsman called out over his shoulder, briefly taking his eyes off the rapidly approaching second wave and Marco gritted out a short “Focus on the wave, not me.” as the ship began to rise up the second wave. The helmsman accepted the order without a moment’s hesitation and called out another “Brace” to the crew.

They climbed the second wave easier than the first one. It was a little smaller and didn’t break before the ship had passed it’s crest, but as they descended the sea once again briefly washed over the ship as it dove almost vertically into the sea. 

The moment the water washed over him again, Marco felt the sweet relief of his flames fade as the pain came back with another pulse of burning pressure and pain. The surprise of the pain caused him to gasp out in pain, only for his lungs to fill with seawater. As the water receded Marco desperately coughed trying to empty the water out of his lungs and fill them with air.

The third wave was considerably smaller than the previous two giants. It was still large enough to easily flip the ship if they made a mistake, but when the marines reached the top they were able to descend without spending any considerable time below the water. 

By the fifth wave, Marco was able to stagger to his feet as his fire burned in his chest and dulled the pain. There probably wouldn’t be any more waves big enough to pose a serious threat to the ship. They had managed to ride out the worst of the tidal waves, and despite their drenched clothes and the exhaustion the marines seemed to be in good spirits.

Nobody saw the small iceberg before the seventh wave sent it crashing against the side of the ship. Nobody saw it crashing against the railing in the rear, breaking even the Adam’s wood. But everyone felt the ship jerk as the railing was shattered and fell into the sea. And everyone heard the scream of the helmsman as he saw Marco fail to cut the thick rope in time, as his piece of railing fell of the ship and into the depths, pulling the still coughing marine with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, it's been a while.... Sorry about that, again....
> 
> Anyways while i was procrastinating writing this chapter, the One Piece Manga hit chapter 1000! Holy shit guys, I have spent more of my life with the One Piece manga than i have spent without it!
> 
> I want to thank all the commenters who commented on the previous chapter. You all motivate me to keep going, even if I leave you on read for a while.


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